


A Sea Apart

by Missjlh



Series: Eyes on the Sky [4]
Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, De Sardet and Vasco make bad decisions because they are sad, Depression, F/M, Major Character Injury, Pining, Smut, Suicidal Ideation, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missjlh/pseuds/Missjlh
Summary: Instead of being sent with De Sardet, Vasco is sent back to sea. Life without the one they love is difficult and doesn’t get easier once they’re finally reunited.
Relationships: De Sardet/Vasco (GreedFall)
Series: Eyes on the Sky [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785805
Comments: 18
Kudos: 18





	1. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: suicidal ideation and major character injury. 
> 
> This AU is, in general, far more bleak than their “canon” story, which is told through the other stories in this series. One does not necessarily need to read the other stories in the series to read this one, though you may wish to read the first six chapters of “Diamonds in the Sky” as the events in those chapters happen the same way in this AU.
> 
> If one is interested in maximizing their sads, I recommend listening to “I Dreamed a Dream”, which I had on repeat when I wrote this.

She can’t look back at the port for fear that one last glimpse of the man she loves will be enough to break her. And so she walks to the apartment, gets settled, wanders around the city and tries to convince herself that she can just be happy it happened. 

“My soulmate does exist,” she tells herself, as if that can be a comfort despite the fact that he is not at her side and never will be again. 

It doesn’t comfort her. Instead her heart aches and the handsome sea captain she loves is never far from her thoughts. 

“Something makes you sad,” their new ally, Siora, tells her two weeks later as they sit by the fire at the end of a long day. 

“It is nothing,” she says, at the same time Kurt responds with, “she gave her heart to a sailor who sailed away with it.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Why not tell the whole island, Kurt?” She says, with more heat than he deserves. 

“Maybe I should, if it means you’ll stop moping about it. You knew going in your little affair had an end date.” 

‘Affair’. If only it was just that and not desperate, passionate love. Is there any chance he will feel the same way when he returns to Tír Fradí next? 

***

She’s not her mother’s daughter. She was kidnapped, first from her mum and then from the Nauts. Admiral Cabral tells her the news and she breaks down in front of the office. Kurt carries her home and she cries until she throws up and passes out alone in her bed. The next day she drags herself out of bed and goes to see her cousin, who always knows how to cheer her up. 

Constantin is dying. Crows were examining him when she visits, her own eyes still bloodshot and raw from crying. Where is Kurt? He should be here. 

A coup. It’s almost a game at this point, seeing how much more the world can throw at her. She stuffs the pain, the anger, the hurt deep down and deals with the lieutenants and Torsten alongside Kurt and Petrus before making her way back to the cellar to free Constantin and his advisors. She stays with Constantin that night; to care for him, she tells everyone. But Constantin knows the truth: she can’t be alone right now. And so they hold each other and cry, despairing their respective fates. 

“I miss him, Constantin,” she says, once she has no more tears left. She doesn’t have to clarify who ‘him’ is. 

Constantin is dying and she’s crying over a lost love. She hates herself for it but Constantin seems relieved to have the distraction. To help ease someone else’s pain so he can forget his own. “Can you go to the port and ask the admiral when he’s expected to return? It’ll give you something to look forward to, at least.” 

She has so little to look forward to. Pain, misery, and death are all she has in her future. But it’s a good idea and that’s what she does the next morning, as the city smoulders in the aftermath of the attempted coup. She knocks on the door of the admiral’s office and when she appears the admiral looks unsurprised to see her. 

“I was wondering if I could ask you about Captain Vasco?” She says once she’s seated across from her. 

Admiral Cabral raises an eyebrow. “This is not what I expected you to speak to me about today. What would you like to ask?” 

“When will he next be on Tír Fradí?” Her voice is so small, as if speaking any louder will bring about more tears. She’s cried an ocean these last few days. 

“I’d have thought you’d have moved on. Relationships between outsiders and Nauts rarely end happily.” Elizabet looks at her, confused. How does she know? Surely Vasco didn’t tell her? 

“I saw you two kissing on the deck,” she explains. “He returned to Sérène and was scheduled to sail to a few other port cities in the Congregation before returning to New Sérène. You’ve been here about seven months so I’d estimate he’ll return in another five or so.” 

“Can...you have someone send me a note when he returns? With his consent, of course.” 

“I can,” she says before sighing. “But there’s a good chance he’ll have moved on. He knows the life. Could you really be satisfied seeing him a week or two every year?”

“What if I left with him?” She speaks with conviction. The moment she says it she knows it’s what she wants. She’s sea born, after all; it was the life she was meant to have. 

“You’d be welcome in our family, De Sardet. But what about your responsibilities here? And know that you need to do this for yourself. Not because you’ve fallen in love with one of us.” 

“Naut ships don’t have doctors, do they?”

“Medics, but not fully trained doctors.” 

“You’ll have your first one when I join.” Not quite the truth, not yet, but by the time Vasco returns to the island she will be trained, she swears to herself. 

“Let us speak more of this when he returns, then.” 

Five months. Five months to find the cure for the malichor to save Constantin and the continent, to train to become a doctor and to force everyone on this damned island to get along. 

***

Petrus knew her mother. Loved her mother. The knowledge devastates her but does leave her with one small bit of joy: Auntie Slàn - or, _Modryb_ Slàn. She’s a good, lovely woman who fusses over her immediately. Maybe she sees how her niece hurts. It’s near impossible not to nowadays. 

“I will take you to Catasach. He can help your cousin and teach you to heal.” 

Her aunt walks with her, hand-in-hand to Wenshaveye, asking her about her life. Gently, as if she’s looking for the source of her pain. 

“I’m in love,” she tells her one evening as they stare up at the stars, the same way her and Vasco once did. 

“Love is to be a celebration, yet it makes you sad. Did they hurt you?” 

“No. But he’s a Naut and his life is on the sea while mine is on land.” 

Her aunt nods, as if she understands the conundrum intimately. 

“Then you have two choices: move forward and perhaps one day you’ll love another or find a way to share a life together.” 

“I’d go to sea with him. If he wants me.” 

“Try not to despair because you will be together again. Just as my _minundhanem_ and I will be once I leave this life.” 

This is the first she’s spoken of her spouse. She had not realized she was a widow. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss. When did you lose them?”

“She died last spring. A relief in the end, she’d been in pain for so long.” 

_Modryb_ Slàn helps her perform the necessary tasks that will allow Catasach to leave the village and return to New Sérène with her. 

And so Constantin has a healer and she has a teacher. For once she falls asleep with a smile on her face, knowing she will accomplish one of her goals before Vasco returns. 

***

She speaks to Petrus once she’s returned to New Sérène. He tells her about Mum and reveals the name she’d given her: Alys. 

“How did you move on? After you lost her?” 

Petrus looks at her, eyes full of sympathy and understanding. “I didn’t. I’ll never love another.”

That’s not what she wanted to hear but it’s what she expected to hear. She sits in silence as tears stream down her cheeks. Petrus hands her a handkerchief. “What is their name?” He asks her once she’s calmed down. 

Of course he’d have figured out immediately why she was asking. Vasco has never come up around Petrus but she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d figured out long ago that she’s been nursing a broken heart. 

“Vasco.” 

“Not a noble then.” It’s not shocking that Petrus figures that out; ‘Vasco’ is not a name used by the nobility.

“He’s a Naut. The captain of the ship that brought me here.” 

“Does he feel the same way?” 

“I’m not sure,” she admits. “Admiral Cabral told me there’s a good chance he’s moved on. But the way he kissed me when we arrived in port...” 

“What will you do, my child?” 

There’s something she needs to know first. Before she can answer his question. “What would you have done if you’d been able to free Mum?”

“I’d... have tried to get her home.” 

“Would you have stayed with her?” 

“If she’d have had me.” He looks absolutely crushed at the turn the conversation has taken and it strikes her that this is the most vulnerable and honest he’s ever been with her. 

Petrus is a cunning man; adept in politics and using information to his advantage. But he’s someone who knows her hurt more than any of the other people around her. So she trusts he won’t use what she reveals against her. “Admiral Cabral has promised to let me know when he’s on Tír Fradí next. Assuming I’ve accomplished everything I’ve set out to do, and assuming he still feels the same way, I’m going to leave with him.”

“As a passenger?”

She shakes her head. “As a Naut. More specifically, a doctor.” 

“A great leap to take for someone you knew only a short time,” he says but his voice lacks judgement. 

“But is it wrong?” She doesn’t care if it is. 

“No. A life spent longing and mourning a lost love is no way to live. If he wants you as much as you want him, go to sea.” 

***

Her search for a cure is interrupted when Constantin is kidnapped by High King Vinbarr. But upon his rescue it seems that Catasach found a cure for him. Briefly, it brings her joy to know she won’t lose her beloved cousin. It doesn’t last long; she quickly realizes that bonding him to the island has changed him irreparably. But she doesn’t have time to investigate further as the team is needed in Hikmet. 

Her, Kurt and Aphra enter Doctor Asili’s lab and what they find horrifies her. He’s experimenting on Natives and Nauts in his own fucked up search for a cure. She looks desperately at the faces of the Nauts in the jail cells; pleading with the world not to see Vasco’s face among them. She doesn’t. Silently she promises vengeance for his family. 

It doesn’t occur to her until later that he could have been one of the countless people murdered by Asili. “He’s at sea,” she reminds herself. “Not in this lab.” 

Doctor Asili poisoned her and Constantin as part of his twisted experiments. She falls to the ground and screams until she’s hoarse, finally releasing months of pent up pain, worry and rage. Asili’s tied up, watched by Aphra and Kurt, but she beats him to death anyway. Aphra tries to pull her off him but she pushes her away. Kurt just stands back, looking disappointed in her. 

It’s a dark satisfaction as the skin on her hands split and her knuckles ache from the force of her blows. He dies choking on his own blood and she can’t bring herself to feel anything but relief. She killed him. For her cousin. For Vasco’s family.

She’s never killed someone with her bare hands before. Never been so close to watch the life leave their eyes. 

Governor Burhan has guards escort the three of them out of the throne room when she announces she will be sharing the information she found with the Congregation. There will almost certainly be a war now. Had she been able to get away with it, she’d have beaten Burhan to death too. He knew about what Asili was up to - probably condoned it, at least until an allied nation discovered the truth.

“There was no honour in what you did! You could have had him arrested, Green Blood! Had him face justice!” Kurt rails at her that night. 

“Oh? And you don’t know anything about revenge, do you? You had me smuggle a man into a San Matheus jail so he would die a heretic!” 

“That was still justice! What you did was murder! How many people will die in the inevitable war between the Congregation and the Bridge Alliance?”

“Enough that perhaps they will consider changing their ways.” 

“All you’ve done is forced them into secrecy. You’ve changed nothing.” He gives her a look and walks out of the room, leaving her to wonder if she’s made a horrible mistake. 

***

Her aunt and Siora choose Dunncas as the next High King. En on mil Frichtimen reveals what she’s feared: Constantin has gone mad and if he isn’t stopped, he will destroy the world. 

It’s confirmed to her that there’ll be no saving Constantin when he sends a corrupted nadaig after her, Kurt and Petrus. She dives in front of it, taking the blows meant for them because it’s the only way she can save them. Petrus kills it quickly. 

“At least I know I can heal,” she thinks as she repairs the internal injuries caused by such hard blows. Damage that would have killed her by morning had she not found and healed it. 

She’s never felt pain like this before. As she’s healing she thinks that her insides finally match her soul. That she’s broken completely. 

Kurt carries her to San Matheus where she recovers from her injuries. The rest of her team travel to build her an army as she sits on the couch feeling useless. If she’s honest with herself, she has no intention of surviving what is to come. Killing Constantin is her duty, but as long as it’s done it doesn’t matter what happens to her. Dunncas is sending his people to the continent to help repair the land. She’s informed Constantin’s advisors of Asili’s horrific crime and left it in their hands. 

There’s nothing more for her on this island without Constantin. She thinks briefly of her aunt and regrets not having the time to get to know her better. 

“We’ll be buried together, Constantin,” she thinks. 

But she does live. He offers her the chance to bond with him; to be a god at his side. And for a moment, just a small one, she’s tempted. To put the Bridge Alliance in its place, to end her uncle’s reign of terror. But that’s not who she is. She’s caused enough damage in the name of vengeance. Godhood is something she is unworthy of. Too flawed, too broken, too human.

So she kills her cousin, her best friend...her brother. It’s Kurt that finds her, sobbing and clinging to his dead body, begging him to wake up. 

She doesn’t remember the days that follow. Not the various meetings, promises made, not even his funeral. At one point Lady Morange and Mr. De Courcillon approach her about succeeding Constantin as governor. And it’s too much. She will not serve the man who stole her, threw her mum into a hole and turned her into a pawn. 

“I will not spend another minute bowing to the whims of a tyrant,” she says coldly. “Find a new pawn.” 

Thankfully they understand that this is her resignation as Legate as well. A relief, really, because she’s done a shit job of it. A diplomat isn’t supposed to start a war, even if the nation in question deserves it. Weeks later she’s still ashamed of her actions. 

“Where will you go?” Kurt asks her as she walks into the apartment for the last time to gather her things. 

“Urgent letter for you, my lady,” Judy says, handing her a letter and rushing away. She opens it, reads it and looks up at Kurt. 

“To the port,” she says softly, grabbing her medical bag, and stuffing it full of potions and salves from the cabinet. 

“I sacrificed my cousin to save you. Don’t take him too,” she whispers.

Elizabet has never been one to pray but she prays to En on mil Frichtimen. That she’s not too late. 

***

As the days at sea pass by, Vasco keeps wondering when it will get easier. When he won’t spend every quiet moment imagining her face, wishing she was in his quarters waiting for him. Running their only kiss through his mind, memorizing how she tastes and how she feels in his arms. 

“Elizabet was just another person,” he tells himself, as if he can convince himself that what they had wasn’t serious. That he doesn’t love her. 

They’d have had no future together. This is best. But it feels wrong. The sea, his home; normally a source of comfort brings him nothing but loneliness. 

On top of this, he doesn’t know who he is. Where he comes from. The bitterness he feels over the path he was shoved on runs deeper than ever.

“Care for a tumble, Vasco?” Flavia asks him one evening. So he’s pathetic enough that he’s being offered a pity fuck now. 

Still, he forces himself to smile at her. “We did that once and decided it was strange. Like shagging a sibling.” 

Flavia shrugs. “Thought you could use the distraction. I’ll happily tolerate an awkward and inevitably regrettable night if it makes you forget your troubles for awhile.” 

“Admitting you’ll find it awkward and regrettable is not a good sales tactic. Just a tip for future propositions.”

“So that’s a no?”

“Yes, Flavia, that is a no.” 

“Someone’ll bed you. Handsome man like you? All you need is to make clear you’re looking for a lay and you’ll have someone in your bed within the hour.” 

He sighs. “I’m the captain. Not appropriate to seek out a lay amongst the crew. They couldn’t properly consent.” 

“You’re damn decent, you know. Not every captain thinks like you.” 

“I’m well aware, Flavia. I... wouldn’t seek out anyone even if it were appropriate.” He looks at the deck as he says this, feeling awkward as he dances around a confession of love. Only he’s confessing his feelings to the wrong person. Flavia and not Elizabet. 

She pats him on the back. “Figured as much. Never seen someone so lovesick in my life.” 

“I’m not ‘lovesick!’” Even he doesn’t believe his bullshit. 

“Morose. Pining. Kind of a grump. Any of those will do if you don’t like ‘lovesick’. Chin up, Vasco. Weather’s beautiful and the voyage has been smooth. Life is good.” 

If only he felt the same. 

***

Once they arrive in Sérène him and the crew have a week of leave. On a walk he finds himself in the noble area of the city and walks to the palace. Out of curiosity he tells himself but really, it’s because he can’t stop thinking of Elizabet. He wants to see where she grew up. 

It’s a massive building, the palace. The grounds are large and green; a contrast to all of the dirt and soot everywhere else in the city. Nobody pays him any mind as he looks it over from a distance. 

She hated it there. Her childhood was difficult at times, he knows that much. It makes his heart ache and he longs for her. The pain that he’s kept hidden, smothered deep, bubbles to the surface and his eyes well up with tears and he pulls his tricorn down and rushes away before anyone notices and wonders why a Naut is crying in front of the palace. 

Maybe he could be happy on land with her. As they leave their last stop and head to New Sérène, he resolves to track her down on his shore leave. See if she’s hurting just as much as he is. And if she isn’t? At least that’ll be closure. He can move on with a clear mind. 

***

He dreams of her. Not every night, but at least once a week. But his subconscious doesn’t get her quite right. Her eyes aren’t the right shade of blue, her hair lacks the thick waves he loves so much, her lips too thin. 

But now he wonders if he can trust his memories of her. If the image in his mind is true-to-life. Will his memory of her fade away over the years if she doesn’t love him as he loves her? 

He sips from a flask once he’s finished his nightly walk on-deck. Everything looks as it should. But it only makes him think of her and the night they spent sipping whiskey from the same flask he’s drinking from now. And the day they spent in bed sharing her own flask. 

Feeling his eyes well up, he departs for his quarters. The crew can’t see him like this. 

***

“Monster!” The sound of Lauro shouting sends a chill down his spine. Panic; the sort of panic he hasn’t heard in someone’s voice in several years. Rushing to the stern, he sees a massive black beast attempting to scale the ship. 

“Need all hands, fire at this thing and send it back to the sea!” He shouts as crew come running. 

It’s no use; its skin is heavily armoured and the bullets are doing little to it. Ignoring the hail of gunfire, it makes it on deck. 

“Can’t let it rip apart the ship, I’ll keep it busy and you all shoot it. Find weak spots and focus your fire there!” He orders as he draws his sword. 

“Cap, that thing’ll kill you!” Flavia shouts, sounding alarmed. 

“I’ll be fine and if I’m not, you’ll get the ship to port! We’re all dead if the beast sinks the ship!” 

It looks similar to the one Elizabet killed at the port in Sérène. Not exactly the same, but enough for him to know it’s the same sort of creature. But something feels off about it; it’s all black and its lack of reaction to the bullets penetrating its skin makes him wonder if the beast has been charmed somehow. 

He can do this, he tells himself; he’s even got a crew shooting at it while he dances around trying to keep it distracted. Far more than Elizabet had. 

For all his bluster, the beast is quick and he doesn’t know how to fight it. He’s sent flying through the air, hitting the mast and he feels something wet drip down his back as he stands back up. So he’s bleeding, then. Not something he has time to be concerned about now. 

Another hard hit takes his breath away and he’s gasping for a few moments before collecting himself and running back into the fray. The beast is weakening and the ship is still seaworthy.

He finishes it off by thrusting his sword through its neck, black blood gushing all over him as it struggles before falling to the deck, dead. 

“Get the creature tossed overboard and make what repairs are needed to get us to New Sérène. I’m washing up.” 

Gustavo, their quartermaster, who also doubles as their medic, approaches him. “Should look you over, Captain.” 

“I’ll find you. Going to bathe first.” 

The malichor is something he knows little about but what he does know is that it turns one’s blood black. He’s never heard of a beast infected with the malichor. It’s strange. While he knows Nauts don’t catch it, there’s something disconcerting about being covered in black blood and he wants it cleaned off as soon as possible. He scrubs his skin raw, skin crawling until he’s sure it’s all washed off him. 

There’s a cut on his back. Nasty one, from what he can see in the mirror. With the fight over and his nerves settled, his back, chest and torso hurt terribly. It’s a struggle to get dressed again but he manages it. Moving slowly, he makes his way to the infirmary only to collapse midway there, overwhelmed by a dizzy spell brought about by exhaustion and pain. 

Jonas and Lauro pick him up. “Don’t need you to do this,” he mutters. 

“You look like shit, Cap,” Lauro says. 

Gustavo hands him a bottle of vodka and he feels a pang of longing for Elizabet and her healing methods. That longing intensifies as Gustavo stitches the wound on his back shut. He doesn’t cry out but he does drink enough to dull the pain and guarantee a wicked hangover in the morning. He passes out in the infirmary shortly after Gustavo finishes. 

It’s worse when he wakes up. His chest and torso are bruised black and every movement he tries to make is agony. And so Gustavo orders him to stay in bed, which he does, reluctantly. 

When they arrive in port he’s carried off the ship in a stretcher. Conscious and alert, despite wishing otherwise. Another medic looks him over. Refuses to tell him what’s wrong but he overhears muttering about ‘bleeding inside’. Admiral Cabral has him brought to her cabin and she orders him to remain in bed. Frankly, he’s sick of being told to stay in bed but he doubts he’d get far on his own power at the moment. 

She looks worried. The admiral is never worried. “Elizabet De Sardet is a healer. With magic. Find her,” he says to Admiral Cabral and she nods and promises to call for her. 

He knows it’s bad. That whatever that creature did could kill him. 

Elizabet never shows up. At the days go on, the pain changes. It’s not the bruising causing him the most grief, but his back is throbbing and hot. Whenever he’s foolish enough to put pressure on his wound he feels pain so sharp it takes his breath away. So he lies carefully, doing his best to avoid putting pressure on the area underneath his left shoulder blade. Not an easy task. 

Crows examine him. He’s so hot. Why won’t they let him get out of bed? “Internal bleeding,” one of them says. “Wound on his back was closed properly,” the other says. 

“My back hurts,” he mumbles and one of the crows pats him on the shoulder, the way one does a child. Why aren’t they doing anything about his back? 

“Nothing can be done,” he hears them tell the admiral and he knows then that whatever that creature did is fatal. 

He wishes they’d had the decency to tell him he’s going to die. Much more polite than forcing him to overhear it. Life as a Naut is dangerous so he isn’t surprised to learn this is how he goes. Still, he’d have liked to live longer than he has. Told Elizabet that he loves her. 

How can the admiral stand it in here? It’s so bloody hot. “Open a window? I’m so hot,” he mutters to her and she looks at him, crestfallen before opening the window. 

There’s a breeze and he can smell the sea. This isn’t so bad. 

His back is worse in the morning. He lies on his right side to keep pressure off his wound and the area surrounding it. As the hours go on, the area causing him pain seems to grow. It’s bizarre. 

And he’s cold now. So cold. Shaking so much his teeth are chattering. Admiral Cabral must be at her office. He needs another blanket. There’s a closet across the room where she keeps spare blankets. He stands, slowly, and takes a few steps before dizziness overtakes him and he falls to the floor. 

“You can’t get out of bed, Vasco,” the admiral tells him when he wakes up again. Her eyes are red, as if she was recently crying. He wonders why she is crying but then he remembers that he’s dying. Bleeding internally, apparently. 

“Take me to the sea?” He asks her. They’re so close to the water and he thinks it might be nice to die in the ocean. 

“Not yet, Vasco. Not yet,” she says, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. He wonders what she’s waiting for. 

When he breaks down and asks the admiral for something to ease the pain in his back, she helps him drink from a bottle of liquor. And that is when he remembers that Elizabet’s methods, with her soft touches and fancy potions are unusual. There will be no real relief for him. 

“Tell Elizabet that I love her?” He asks the admiral. 

“You can tell her yourself,” Admiral Cabral’s voice breaks. 

“Don’t think I’ll last long enough,” he mutters before everything goes dark. 

He loses track of time. His heart is racing and he can’t catch his breath despite lying still in bed. And he’s so fucking hot. Sleep is easier. As he drifts off he thinks of Elizabet; regretting that he’ll never see her again and that she’ll never know just how much he loved her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I wanted to examine was how different certain events would turn out without Vasco’s presence. Throughout their canon story, we’ve seen that Elizabet has a tendency to react violently when someone she loves is threatened or harmed. Something that can have devastating consequences and the consequences of the way she dealt with Asili will be addressed.


	2. On the Brink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet works desperately to save Vasco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: descriptions of medical procedures, suicidal ideation and a panic attack.

_Lady De Sardet,_

_As promised, I am writing to inform you that Captain Vasco has returned to port. Unfortunately his ship was attacked by one of those beasts off the coast yesterday and he was badly wounded fending it off. Our medics have done all they can._

_I would ask you to make haste to the port. He needs a doctor._

_Admiral Cabral_

The letter is postmarked five days ago; the day after the battle. If she hazards a guess, she would think the nadaig that attacked his ship was likely one corrupted by her cousin. 

Vasco wouldn’t know how to fight them. At sea, trying to keep it from destroying the ship...she doesn’t want to imagine what he must have done to ensure the ship and crew made it to port. 

She runs as fast as she can through the streets of New Sérène, out of breath by the time she reaches the admiral’s office. The door opens before she has a chance to knock. 

“With me,” she says, walking with purpose across the port. Elizabet struggles to keep up, breathing hard as they walk. 

“He lives?”

“For now. The crows we fetched say nothing more can be done.” 

“I’m not a crow.” 

“I’m well aware of what you are, De Sardet.” She leads her to a cabin and opens the door. Once inside she gestures to a room. “Let’s hope you have a miracle in you.” 

A chill runs through her spine. “I might need a hand. Are you available to assist?” 

“I’ll do what I must.” 

He’s unconscious, face flushed with fever, torso covered in bruises that, if she squints, look to be in the shape of the tentacles of a Nadaig Glendemen. It’s difficult to tell for sure - the dark tattoos covering his chest and torso make it difficult to see the bruising clearly. Rushing towards him, she casts a spell, searching for internal bleeding and finds nothing life threatening. The bruises, while likely very painful, are superficial. 

“They say he’s bleeding internally,” the admiral says. 

“They’re incorrect when they insinuate that’s what’s made him so sick. Something else is wrong.” 

She continues her search, finding nothing obvious. But his heart is racing and his breathing shallow in addition to the fever, which scares her. He’s close to death, she knows instinctively, and she needs to heal whatever is causing his condition without delay. “Tell me what happened when he arrived in port. What state was he in?” She speaks quickly and desperately. 

“Could hardly move but he was awake and alert. Medic on the ship looked him over after the fight, stitched a wound on his back and ordered him to take it easy.”

“Why write me then?” 

“The medic who looked him over once he made it to port suspected internal damage that was well beyond his capabilities. When you didn’t show up, we called for the crows and they confirmed our fears, which you are now disavowing.” 

“Help me roll him. I need to see the wound on his back.” 

“That’s already healed though? The crows had no concerns with it.” 

“Admiral, please! I’m grasping at anything right now.” She has a suspicion and she does not know if she wants it to be right or not. At least she’d know what’s wrong but if the wound hasn’t healed right and the festering has gone into his blood, healing it could be beyond her. 

Nodding her head, the admiral moves to the other side of him and helps her roll him onto his stomach. Briefly Vasco wakes enough to groan at the movement. “I’m here. Going to fix you up, Love.” She hopes desperately that she hasn’t just lied to him. 

She turns to the admiral. “Did the medic check to see if anything was embedded in the wound? How was it cleaned?” 

“Was a deep wound but he said there was nothing. And - water, I imagine?” 

“Fuck! Damned crows.” 

“What is it?” The Admiral looks shocked and a little alarmed by her outburst. Her propensity for cursing is rather unusual for someone of the nobility, particularly noblewomen. 

“Can almost guarantee the wound wasn’t cleaned properly by your medic. It’s possible there was something left inside. Wound has gone bad; had the crows been thorough instead of looking at the obvious, they would have caught it before it got this serious, re-opened it, drained it and covered it with a poultice.” 

Grabbing her bag, she pulls out a scalpel, bottle of alcohol, herbs and several magic potions. She briefly considers trying to rouse him to have him take a draught to relieve the pain he must be in, but he’s in such a poor state she fears adding anything more to his system could be catastrophic. All she can do is hope he remains unconscious for most of what she must do to heal him. 

“When I say, tilt one of these into my mouth. I won’t be able to stop what I’m doing.” She takes the admiral’s hand and places it on his neck over his pulse. “Once a minute, tell me his pulse and the number of breaths he’s taken. If anything changes, I need to know immediately. He’s not in good shape right now,” her voice cracks a little but she pushes her emotions aside as quickly as they appeared. They will not help her now and she must be able to think clearly and rationally. 

Catasach told her anecdotally of a time he saved a man’s life by using a storm spell to shock his heart out of a fatal rhythm. And immediately told her it was only to be attempted if all else fails as it could just as easily kill the patient. She really does not want to have to find out if she can pull off such a feat. Better to try to heal what’s causing the symptoms rather than act reactively should things become worse. 

“Will do,” Admiral Cabral says, pulling out a pocket watch. 

Taking a deep breath, she re-opens the wound and is greeted by the horrifying sight of a wound gone bad. Thick pus and blood rush out of the newly re-opened wound. He must have been in agony - how could the crows the Nauts sent for have possibly missed this? 

She’s never hated being right more than she does right now. Bits of wood made their way deep into the wound and the festering has reached his blood, judging by the fever, and his other symptoms. 

Catasach told her how to pull it from the blood, but she’s never actually done it. So she’s working using theory and not practical experience right now. 

“Pulse is 125, 23 breaths,” the admiral says, her voice stoic and lacking emotion. When she first saw the admiral, she could tell she was deeply upset; while Vasco never spoke much of Admiral Cabral, she suspects they might be close. But she’s compartmentalizing right now, just as Elizabet is. 

First task is to drain and clean the wound properly, otherwise they’ll be right back here a week from now, rendering all of her work useless. 

The numbers Admiral Cabral give her grow more dire as she works. But healing is hard on the body, she reminds herself. Once she’s done, he should stabilize. 

If she wasn’t too late. And if she’s even skilled enough to save him. A dark corner of her mind tells her this and she forces the thoughts away. 

Once the wound is drained and flushed out, she applies a poultice that should help matters while she works to pull the festering from his blood. 

“129, 24.” 

“I need a potion,” she says without emotion and the admiral tilts the first of what will be many into her mouth. Still fatigued from her injuries from the fight with Constantin’s corrupted nadaig several weeks ago, and the ones sustained by the nadaig guarding him earlier this week, she wonders if it’ll be enough to save Vasco, or if the man she loves will be another inadvertent fatality at the hands of her cousin.

She never told him she loves him. Not in words, anyway. It’s unclear whether he can even hear her now but she can’t stand the idea of him dying not knowing how she feels. “I love you, Vasco. I love you so much and I will follow wherever you want to go if you’ll have me.” 

The admiral is polite enough to pretend she doesn’t hear her and focuses on her own task as Elizabet speaks to him. 

“105, 21,” Admiral Cabral says once Elizabet finishes speaking.

“A slight improvement. Good. Stay with me, Love. You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” she says quietly as she continues to work. Periodically she talks to him, explaining what she’s doing or encouraging him. At no point does he give an indication that he is awake enough to hear her but it can’t hurt. 

It takes hours and she’s dizzy and jittery from the number of magic potions required to sustain herself. But it’s working, and he’s stabilizing. 

“62, 16.”

This is the fifteenth normal count the admiral has given her. “You can stop,” Elizabet says as she continues to cast, “he’s stable now.” 

The admiral lifts her hand off him and sighs in relief. 

Sweat is dripping down her brow as she checks him over to confirm she got everything. And she has, so she removes the poultice, and re-stitches the wound. Once finished she applies a salve to numb the skin and promote healing and bandages it before she falls to her knees, weak from exertion. 

“You did well, De Sardet.” The first words, aside from numbers that the admiral has spoken in hours. 

“We’ll see if it was enough.” While he seems stable now, he was near death. She fears what she’s done today is not be enough to save him and that he may never wake up. 

“His death was certain this morning. And now it isn’t. He has a chance. A good one, judging by your reaction to the numbers I was giving you.” 

Admiral Cabral hands her a water skin and she drinks from it gratefully. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, the admiral helps her up and guides her to the other side of the bed. 

“I can’t. It wouldn’t be right. He doesn’t even know I’m here and to wake up in a bed with me? I won’t do that to him,” she protests. “I can lie on the floor.” 

Turning her head, the admiral gives her an incredulous look. “You’ll hardly be the most regrettable person he’s woken up beside. He’s fond of you. More fond than I’ve ever seen him of anyone. He’ll be happy to see you.” Her face softens. “He’s the one who told me you could heal. Asked me to find you.” 

She’s too tired to fight further on the matter and sinks into the bed, asleep before she even pulls the covers over herself. 

A pair of beautiful golden eyes meet hers when she wakes up the next day. He looks melancholy, and not happy at all to see her and as she starts to move to get out of the bed and apologize, he speaks. 

“The world got you too, then?” His voice is hoarse from a lack of water. 

What’s he talking about? Is he hallucinating? She puts her palm on his forehead and he might still have a slight fever, but not nearly high enough to be hallucinating. 

“What do you mean?” 

“We’re dead. You didn’t know? I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.” 

The absurdity of it is too much and she starts laughing. Vasco stares at her, baffled, until she calms. “We aren’t dead, Vasco. You were very sick and I healed you.” 

“You mean I lived?” He looks rather shocked by the notion that he’s still alive. 

“It was a close thing but yes. The medic didn’t clean the wound on your back properly. I was able to remove the festering from your blood and around the injury.” She places her hand over his heart, needing to confirm for certain that he’s well, and he is. 

He smiles at her, resting a hand on top of hers. “You found a teacher, then? Thank you. For saving me.” 

“I did, for a time. He...died.” Her face twists with grief as she’s reminded of all that has happened in the last year. 

“I’m sorry. I’d ask how you’ve been but you look haunted. Imagine that’s a difficult topic.”

“Vasco, I’m not the woman I was a year ago. This fucking world...” her voice cracks and he squeezes her hand. His heart is beating steadily under her hand; a relief and something she focuses on in an attempt to ground herself. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” 

“You need to drink first. And eat something.” She hands him the waterskin beside her bed and walks out of the bedroom. The admiral has left - presumably to her office, but she finds some fruit, cuts it up and brings it to him. 

“I’m starving. Thank you,” he says as he takes the plate from her. She nibbles from her own plate as he eats; it’s been difficult to drum up any sort of appetite this last week. 

“So what has happened?” He asks once they’ve finished eating. 

She sighs in response and starts listing things off, trying her best to sound like a diplomat and not a person chewed up by the last year of her life. “I’m not my mother’s daughter; my uncle kidnapped my mum from Tír Fradí and I was born on a Naut ship. He threw Mum in a prison where she suffered for six years until she died.”

He looks at her, eyes full of sympathy but does not look surprised by this revelation. “You look more like an islander than someone from the continent. Always thought there was something odd going on,” he says quietly. 

“I found my aunt. She lives in a village on the island and is a wonderful woman.”

Vasco gives her a small smile. “I’m glad you found your family.” 

“The one good thing to happen since arriving on the island. Constantin came down with the malichor, poisoned by a mad doctor named Asili who lived in Hikmet. I beat Asili to death and swore to make the revelation public so there will almost certainly be a war in response. Thousands will die because I wanted revenge instead of justice.”

Vasco rests a hand on her arm. She looks him in the eye, expecting judgement but finds none. 

“The Coin Guard attempted a coup on the island. Kurt and I just barely stopped it in time. Catasach, my teacher and Constantin’s healer, bonded him to the island, which ultimately drove him mad and threatened the entire world. I had to... kill him myself a week ago now.” Her voice breaks and she chokes back a sob. “His advisors tried to make me governor. I resigned and told them to fuck off so I’m just...floating and lost, trying to figure out what I’m to do now.”

Vasco looks shocked and stares at her for a few moments before catching himself and pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

The simple comfort, something she’s had so rarely this last year breaks her open and she weeps in his arms, clinging to him as if she’d drown without him. “I didn’t want to live. I expected to die with Constantin,” she sobs. 

“I’m glad you’re still here. I wouldn’t be if you had,” he murmurs in her ear as he rubs her back in slow circles. He holds her until she’s all cried out and she curls into his lap. 

“How was your year?” 

“Uneventful until we were attacked by that beast. Climbed onto the ship. I fought it up close and the crew shot it from range. Kept it busy with me so it wouldn’t sink the ship and it beat the shit out of me, as you saw.”

“They’re tough. Kurt, myself and our allies fought a number of them this last year.” 

“It was lonely. It was lonely at sea before, but it was near unbearable after...” 

He doesn’t need to finish his thought because Elizabet understands. She cups his cheek and gives him a kiss. Tentative at first, just a brush of her lips against his; unsure if this is something he wants but wandering fingers squeeze her hip and grip her hair as he deepens the kiss.

“I love you too,” he whispers near reverently as their lips part. 

“You heard?” 

“I did. Don’t remember much but I couldn’t possibly forget that.” 

“I’m not Legate anymore. Wherever you wish to go, I’ll go with you. If you’d rather a life on land, we can move to Vignamri and live with my aunt. Or I could be a doctor on your ship. Or something else. Anything. I only ask that I not have to be a bloody politician anymore.” 

“And I was so hoping to live in a palace with you,” he teases before growing serious. “Can’t imagine I’d be much good at living amongst nobility. A life away from politics sounds grand to me.” 

“There’s a complication.” 

“Hmm?” Vasco tucks a stray strand of her hair behind her ears. 

“My uncle. I’ve resigned but my advisors warned me he is likely to want me to be his heir. Wherever we go, we need to make sure him or his hunters can’t find me.” 

Vasco nods. “We have awhile before that’s a concern. Give me time to think and I’ll find a solution. Can’t imagine the admiral will be sending me off again immediately if I touched death the way you claim.” 

“Doubt you’d have made it through the night if I didn’t show up when I did,” she says, feeling light-headed. Panic builds and she starts hyperventilating. 

He holds her through the attack, rubbing her back and she focuses on the feeling of his hands on her to bring herself back down. “Sorry,” she says when she’s able to speak again. 

“You need not apologize for having feelings. It’s been a shit year for you.” 

“Where would you want to go?” 

Vasco gives her a kiss. “We have time to decide. Doesn’t have to be today. Why don’t we take a few days to enjoy one another’s company? Get reacquainted again. Get to know one another in new ways,” he winks at her. 

“We won’t be apart again?” She asks, not daring to get her hopes up. 

“Not unless you wish it, Tempest,” he says, giving her another kiss. 

For the first time in so long she finds herself feeling optimistic about the future.


	3. Reconnecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco and Elizabet get to know each other in new ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: brief reference to abuse.
> 
> NSFW

A year is a long time to be apart, especially when so much has occurred, but she doesn’t want to spend the entire day talking about everything that’s happened. Every bit of pain, every traumatic moment, all of the things that have irreparably changed her. They have a whole lifetime for that (a thought that warms her). So they hold one another, kissing lazily. 

“I should have kissed you on the voyage,” he says between kisses, “but I knew if I did I’d never let you go. I’d have walked away from the sea and done my best to look pretty on your arm at all your fancy parties.” 

“You’d have looked so pretty, Love.” 

“Mmm, and I could have chewed out any idiots at the parties. Made sure they all knew not to fuck with you.”

“That’s not quite how diplomacy works. Have to smile and tolerate everyone, even the stupid ones.” 

She touches him, not in the tender and gentle manner she had a year previous. No, now her touches are charged and passionate, her fingers running over his chest, down his abdomen, his muscles twitching as her hands dance over his skin. His eyes are closed, he’s writhing in pleasure at her touch and she straddles him. Feeling daring (and a little nervous; aware of her relative inexperience compared to him), she tugs gently on the rings in his nipples. Vasco moans loudly and bucks his hips, the sound sending a spark of need to her core and making her whimper. 

“Don’t stop,” he tells her, voice heavy with desire. Bending down, she takes a nipple into her mouth, tongue swirling around it, her fingers toying with the other one. There’s a voice in the back of her head telling her that this is a very bad idea, that he was dying just 12 hours ago and that the wound on his back could re-open but then Vasco moans and she feels his hard cock grinding into her centre. 

She’d forgotten to close the door when she returned to the bedroom with food so when the admiral returns home she’s greeted to the sight of the two of them in a very compromising position when she knocks loudly on the door. Startled, she rushes to get off Vasco, settling beside him, trying her best to pretend she wasn’t just caught in the position they were in. Elizabet’s face burns as the admiral smirks at the two of them from the doorway. 

“De Sardet performed a miracle, then,” she says to Vasco. 

“I appear to still be breathing,” Vasco responds, his face slightly red, but mostly he looks remarkably pleased with himself and completely unashamed of how they had been found. 

“Well done, De Sardet. How long will he need to take off to recover?” 

She hesitates. He’s doing shockingly well right now; she suspects pulling out everything poisoning his body effectively reversed him from the dire state he was in last night. But she doesn’t know if overdoing it will cause harm. “He’s doing well at the moment, but I’d feel better if he rested and waited a few weeks before heading out to sea.”

“If that is indeed your plan,” she looks pointedly at Vasco. “I realize I may have lost the best young sailor we have.” 

“Not sure the plan, Admiral but I’ll be sure to let you know as soon as we do.”

“I need to get back to the office - just thought I’d stop in to check on you. Tie a scarf on the door, would you?” 

Elizabet looks at Vasco once the admiral leaves, not quite sure the significance of a scarf on the door. He rubs the back of his neck. “Means we need...privacy.” 

“Ah.”

“Would you want to... take things further? It can wait, for as long as you wish us to wait.” 

She wants to. Oh, how she wants to. More than a year of finding release by her own hand to the thought of him has become dreadfully unsatisfying. “I want to but Vasco you were so sick and you’re covered in bruises. Not to mention I only just closed the wound on your back...I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” she says; a half-hearted objection. Internally she’s pleading with him to reassure her that he’ll be fine. To give them permission to be irresponsible. 

“Thought you’d say that. How about this?” Vasco lowers his voice, “I go and tie a scarf on the door, and then we’ll take off our clothes and I’ll be very good and lie quietly while I finger fuck you until you come all over my fingers. And then if, in your expert medical opinion, you decide I can handle a good fuck, you get on top of me and ride my cock until you reach your peak and bring me over the edge with you.”

She moans as liquid heat floods her smalls and her cunt aches with need. “Vasco...” 

He kisses her neck. “I’ll be very good, I promise.” 

She suspects he’s no longer talking about taking it easy. 

“I’ve never been able to come with a partner,” she warns him. For years she’s wondered if she simply can’t or if she’s just never had a sexual encounter satisfying enough for her to reach her end. 

“I’ll make you come,” he croons against her neck. “Won’t even take you long; you’re so keyed up. I’ll finish you over and over until you ask me to stop.”

She pulls back from him. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” 

“Start with once, then,” he says before kissing her. “How about it?” 

Her already razor-thin resolve breaks. “Yes. Please,” she breathes. He looks at her, pupils blown before standing up, grabbing a scarf from a bag across the room and leaving to tie it on the door knob. 

She’s still dressed like a noble, even if she isn’t one anymore. Not really. She unbuttons her blouse and Vasco walks back into the bedroom and watches as she slides it off her shoulders. “Would you like a show?” 

“Normally I would but I think I’d rather make up for every disappointing lover you’ve ever had and make you scream my name.” 

It’s not elegant but she manages to get her breeches and smalls off, and watches as Vasco does the same. He gets back into bed and runs his fingers down her torso towards her centre and she whimpers in anticipation. Reaching out, she takes his hard cock in hand and strokes it and his breath hitches. A hand on her wrist stills her ministrations. 

“Right now is all about you.” He kisses her neck as his hand slowly moves down her body. “I won’t tease you today. But I can’t wait to really take my time with you. To hold you right at the edge as long as I possibly can.” 

His hand reaches her folds and he gently rubs her clit in small circles. “Is this what you need, Tempest?” 

She can’t recall anyone ever touching her like this, solely focused on bringing her pleasure. “Oh fuck, Love,” she moans as she rocks against his hand. “Little harder.” He increases the pressure slightly, maintaining a steady rhythm and quicker than she’d expected, her orgasm starts to build. 

“I’m getting close, please don’t stop!” She writhes, trying to bring herself over the edge. 

“I told you it wouldn’t take me long,” he whispers huskily in her ear. “You’re going to feel so good when you come and it’s just the beginning. There’s so much I want to do with you, Tempest. And we have years now.” 

He bends and takes a nipple in his mouth, sucking and the pressure in her core snaps. She comes, crying out his name. He works her through it until it becomes too much and withdraws his hand. 

“Did you enjoy that?” He looks smugly pleased with himself and it’s so unbelievably attractive. 

“I’ve never come that hard before.” 

“You’ll have so much better from me. I plan to learn the touches that drive you crazy; how to pleasure you for hours.” She moves closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hard cock brushes her thigh and he groans at the contact. “Fuck, Elizabet. Will my doctor allow herself to ride my cock?” 

It’s not a good idea but desire wins over sense so she sits up and he lies on his back, wincing slightly as he does so. “I’m fine,” he reassures her before she can ask. 

She lines herself up with his cock and slides down on it, moaning as he fills her. Not wanting to jostle his stitches, she moves slowly, grinding against his cock. “Would you touch yourself for me?” He asks her, and she obliges, reaching down to finger her clit. 

“Oh, I like that,” he says as he watches. “Can I come in you? Finish at the same time you do?” 

She has drank the herbal tea to prevent pregnancy daily since she was 18 years old, so conception is not a risk. “Come inside me,” she says and feels his cock twitch in response. 

His eyes don’t leave her; he watches her finger slide over her clit and then they dart up to look at her face. He rests his hands on her rear, guiding her movements, breathing hard, his face awash with pleasure. 

Her orgasm builds once again, even more intensely this time, and she eases up on her ministrations, trying to prolong her pleasure and bring Vasco his. “I’m getting close,” he moans, thrusting into her, trying to finish himself. Her fingers return to her clit, rubbing it quickly, and she finds her end in moments, with Vasco following shortly after her, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside her. 

“Fuck,” she says quietly as she comes down from the high of her climax. “What you said,” Vasco mutters and she giggles, sliding off him and reaching for a cloth to clean themselves up. 

Vasco opens his arms in invitation and she returns to him, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat, rapid from the exertion of their lovemaking but not dangerously so. Not the way it was last night before she healed him. She tries to push the memory from her mind but cannot - not yet. “Are you in any pain?” She lifts her head, looking at him. 

He smiles at her reassuringly. “Some, but it isn’t too bad. Was far worse before you did whatever you did to heal me.” 

“Do you need anything? I’ve got those potions with me.” She should have offered him one earlier, she realizes. 

“No Tempest, I will manage fine without it.” A hand rests on the back of her head and he coaxes her down gently. “I’m still here,” he says, understanding just what she needs to hear. 

“Thank you,” she says, kissing his chest before closing her eyes, feeling the sudden need for a nap. 

She wakes up to Vasco watching her. “Did you fall asleep too?” 

“For a bit.” 

“You could have woken me up instead of just watching me.”

“No, it looked as though you needed the rest. Don’t imagine you’ve had much of it this last year.” 

That’s an understatement. However long she slept just now is the best she’s slept since sleeping in Vasco’s arms back on the Sea Horse. 

“I didn’t. Not really. We aren’t keeping the admiral out of her home are we?” 

“We might be. Shall I remove the scarf? Or would you care for another go? I could show you what my tongue is capable of...” 

“Another day. You need to take it easy, Love.” The sex they’ve already had was ill-advised enough. She won’t risk hurting him worse. 

“Assumed as much. As much as I’d hate to lose the view of your perfect breasts, we should probably dress.” 

They both get dressed and Vasco removes the scarf but the admiral doesn’t return right away. Vasco goes through the bag on the floor in search of something. 

“What did you use to clean my back yesterday?”

“Just alcohol. Why?” 

“Should probably make sure everything’s clean before I stab myself with this,” he shows her what looks to be a - tattoo needle? 

“What are you doing?” 

He smiles mysteriously at her. “Just watch.” She hands him a bottle of alcohol, which he uses to clean the needle and the thumb on his right hand. Then he proceeds to tattoo a line matching the ones on most of his other fingers on his thumb. Once finished he holds it up to her. 

“It looks good. Did...you do any of your other tattoos?” 

Vasco bursts out laughing. “Oh no. I’m hardly an artist. These are the only ones I do. Too personal to let anyone else do ‘em.” 

She asked him once what they meant and he wouldn’t tell her and she will not ask again unless he offers it up. 

“I add a new line whenever the sea almost takes me,” he says, answering her question. She looks at his fingers, counting nine lines and her gaze returns to his face, where he grins, despite the grimness of it. 

“Nine times? You’ve almost died nine times?” 

“Yes. Would you like to hear the tales?” She nods and he tells her, matter-of-factly. Illness, falling overboard, weeks stuck on a too-calm sea and a hurricane. Oh, and accidentally taking a bullet to the lung; a story he told her in part back during the voyage. 

“I almost died twice this year,” she says. He looks at her, and takes her hand, and she continues. “Constantin sent a nadaig after myself, Kurt and our ally, Petrus. The same type of creature that attacked your ship. It was ordered to kill them but leave me unharmed. So I jumped in front of its blows. Ended up with internal lacerations, bruising, and a whole lot of bleeding. Managed to heal myself, just barely. That was only a few weeks ago. I’m still recovering to be honest with you.” 

He squeezes her hand. “You saved yourself.” She nods. 

“The last time was Constantin’s fault too. He had an even larger nadaig under his control. One I’d never seen before. I was alone; having run up the volcano to confront him. I was still exhausted from my injuries a few weeks previous, and I’ve never been much good at dodging so I took a number of hits. It finally cornered me and was about to finish me off when Constantin ordered it away. He saved my life and I proceeded to take his,” she says, her voice breaking at the end. 

“I’m sorry. That means nothing, but all the same; I hate that you had to endure such pain.” 

“He wasn’t himself any longer. The man he was a year ago would have wanted me to kill him. To keep him from hurting people and the world. To put him out of his misery. Doesn’t make it hurt any less.” 

“It’s a cruel thing the world forced you to do.” 

His stomach growls loudly. “We need to get you something to eat,” she says. 

They stand up and walk into the kitchen, where Vasco looks through cabinets in search of something more than fruit to eat. 

“The admiral won’t mind will she?”

Vasco shakes his head. “She might bring something back for us, anyway. But she’s known me since I was a boy so she won’t mind.” 

“Does this mean I can ask her for stories about you?” 

“I’ll tell her not to say a word,” he says lightly. 

“I’ll ply her with drink,” she retorts. 

“Cruel woman. Do you cook?” 

“I’m told I cannot,” she says sheepishly. 

“Who told you this?”

“The entire team I travelled with this last year. And the staff at the apartment. And the kitchen staff back in Sérène.” 

“So you cannot cook, then. Good thing I can.” 

“Didn’t I tell you to rest? Don’t think you should be fucking me and cooking me dinner. I can cook.” 

She can tell Vasco’s trying to find some way of delicately talking her out of cooking when the admiral walks in with a casserole dish. “Thought you two would have worked up an appetite,” she says, winking at Vasco. 

She blushes and looks down at the floor. “Just in time, Admiral. Saved me from having to talk Elizabet out of trying to cook us dinner. Apparently she has been told by near everyone she knows that she cannot cook.” 

“I’m skilled in alchemy,” she explains. “Apparently methods used to craft potions and methods used to cook edible food are incompatible. I’ve never figured cooking out.” 

Eating dinner with Vasco and the admiral feels oddly domestic and she has to remind herself that her and Vasco have been separated for a year. And that, in many respects, she doesn’t know him well. But reuniting with him feels natural, as if no time has passed at all. 

They make love again in the morning but only after Vasco makes her come no less than three times. 

“Does my mouth please you?” He asks as he holds her. 

“Would it be crude to tell you that was the best hour of my life?” 

Vasco laughs, a rich, warm sound that makes her smile. “Not crude but it will only get better. I’m not at my best between the bruising and my back. Still plenty beat up.” 

That reminds her that she needs to check on his back and do some more healing on him. After exhausting herself, she’s nearly back to normal now and able to cast properly. Concentrating, she casts a spell to check how the wound on his back is healing. It’s fine and she sighs with relief. “May I do a bit of work on your back and the bruises? It’ll hurt I’m afraid.” 

“I hadn’t said that to guilt you into tending to me,” he says lightly. 

“I want to. To make sure you’re well. And you’ll recover far more quickly. I’m sorry to say that the scarring on your back is likely to be significant. I did what I could but the festering caused a great deal of damage. If the scar tissue ends up paining you or affecting your range of motion once it’s completely healed there are things I can try to alleviate it.” 

“Go ahead. I’m not bothered by scarring; it’ll be a good story once it’s healed.” 

Once she’s finished with the bruising he turns onto his stomach and she unwraps the bandages and continues her work. She applies a salve before bandaging him up again. “It will numb your skin and help you heal, Love,” she explains before he asks. 

“Nobody had ever paid attention to my pleasure the way you have,” she says wistfully, “The man I lost my virginity to tried, but we were young and the circumstances in which it occurred weren’t great so it wasn’t satisfying. Still the best lay I’d had until you, despite the unpleasantness surrounding the situation.” 

She’d told him yesterday that she had never had an orgasm with a partner and he looked a little shocked. She’s told him a little about her sexual history and does know that he is attracted to both men and women like she is, and he knows she’s slept with women. He looks scandalized. “Not even the women you slept with? I’d have thought they would have at the very least.” 

Elizabet laughs bitterly. “One was a noble I’d met at a party. Couldn’t even be bothered to take her clothes off so I went down on her while she was wearing a chemise. Proud to say I got the job done. Not that she reciprocated. The other was a Bridge Alliance doctor who was more interested in me as a medical curiosity than anything. I believe she thought getting me into bed was a good way of... examining me for additional marks. To see if my blood was black.” 

She’s used to being looked at as if she is a plague-bearer. That she’s an oddity at best and a danger at worst in the eyes of many from the continent. Vasco’s the first outside her family to tell her she’s beautiful that she actually believes to be genuine. 

That she’s used to it doesn’t make it hurt any less when people’s eyes are focused on her mark. Or the cruel words she hears at parties and even in Throne Rooms. Governor Burhan made more than one caustic remark about her face. 

Vasco looks at her, his gaze piercing before he gets off the bed, grabbing her by the legs and pulling her to the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” She asks, laughing at the absurdity of it. 

Vasco kneels at the edge of the bed between her legs and looks at her very seriously. She wonders if she said or did something wrong and opens up her mouth, prepared to apologize for making things awkward, when he speaks. “While I can’t undo years of shitty sex in one day, I can try. And with your permission, I intend to spend the rest of my morning with my face between your thighs doing just that.” 

She loves this man. Oh, how she loves him. “I haven’t had that much sex. You probably can make up for it in a day,” she says in response. 

“Shall I?” He kisses the inside of her thigh and a fresh wave of need washes over her. 

“Yes. Love, please,” she says, resolving to give his cock a good suck once he’s finished with her. 

***

They’re sitting on a bench together in one of the public areas of the port when Kurt walks up to them. 

“So you’ve returned to cause more chaos and destruction for her, Sailor?” 

Vasco just gives him a blank look and Elizabet glares at him. “Kurt! Vasco is not at all responsible for any of the chaos of the last year.”

Kurt crosses his arms. “You’re wrong. He hurt you when he got on his ship and sailed away. Can hardly remember what it looks like when you smile anymore.”

“I made her smile yesterday, Guard. And again this morning. Repeatedly.” Vasco says, the implication of his words clear to Kurt who looks furious. 

“Classy, Sailor. Real classy. Not sure what you see in Nauts, Green Blood. Always get hurt by ‘em.” 

“I’m not about to be lectured about class by a Coin Guard.”

“Vasco has done nothing wrong. I knew he’d have to leave and I knew I had my responsibilities here.” 

“You going to leave with him?” 

“I don’t know yet.” The truth; they haven’t talked more about what they’re going to do. It’s been quite the whirlwind to decide to build a life with a man she spent four months with a year ago. But it feels right. More right than her year as Legate ever did. 

“Your uncle won’t be happy. He’ll come to the island eventually to settle your cousin’s affairs.” 

“I know.” Her voice is small and she looks at her feet. Vasco hasn’t come up with a plan to deal with that problem yet. 

“It’s not my place to tell you how to live your life. I hope whatever you end up doing makes you happier than you’ve been the last few years.” Elizabet embraces him, wondering if she’ll ever see him again after this. 

Before he leaves, he turns to Vasco. “She’s a sister to me. I hear you’ve done anything to hurt her, I’m coming for you. Understood?” 

“Understood. Never been given the shovel talk before,” he says with a strange aura of pride while Kurt scowls, gives her another quick hug and leaves the port. 

Later that night he asks her about something Kurt said. “A Naut hurt you before, according to your former bodyguard. Am I not the first Naut you’ve taken as a lover?” 

She sighs. “Kurt was mostly talking out of his ass. I lost my virginity to a Naut, but he never hurt me. He saved my life, in fact.”

“So you shagged him as thanks, then?”

“No, he saved me by bedding me.” 

Vasco looks baffled. “How exactly does a fuck save one’s life?” 

“Adrien arranged for me to marry a rich noble from his court. He was 30 years older than me and not a kind man. I’d begged him to call it off but Adrien refused. Mother asked as well. So my intended had to see me with another man. Kurt took me to the Coin Tavern, I chatted up a Naut because he was about my age and handsome, and we fell into bed. My betrothed had been told to meet me in one of the rooms and when he entered he found me with my legs wrapped around another man. Called off the engagement and told Adrien, who beat the shit out of me. But I didn’t have to get married.” 

Vasco stares at her in horror before pulling her into his arms. “How can you tell such a horrible story so casually? The cruelty you experienced; that you had to go to such desperate measures to avoid marrying someone horrible? It’s barbaric.” 

“That’s the way noble life is. I grew used to it. Mother said I’d likely never marry after that. So when I fell in love with you, it felt like I was being given something I was never supposed to have. It’s a lovely gift.” 

“You’ll never be hurt by those people again. I promise. I’d kill the prince myself before I’d let him touch you.”

The thought terrifies her because she knows he’s serious. That he’d kill Adrien without regard for his own safety. “No need for that, Love. All we need is to remain far away from him and shake off his hunters.”


	4. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabet insists Vasco take it easy and returns to the apartment for a final time.

Vasco’s not good at being idle. She knew that much about him from their time together on the voyage to Tír Fradí. They’re similar in this regard. 

Still, she insists that he rests for several weeks. She worries that his wound will go bad again if he overdoes it and the bruising is still significant. Admiral Cabral is kind enough to let them stay in the guest room of her cabin. 

“Can I go help out on the docks at least?” He asks a week into their stay. 

“Love, you can’t be lifting. And I’ve seen how you move. You’re still in pain, even if you’re being stubborn about it.” 

She knows what he must be feeling like. It’s the same way she felt after she narrowly escaped death at the hands of the nadaig under Constantin’s control. 

“Can I do something productive? Please?” 

Sighing, she goes into her bag and pulls out several bunches of dried herbs. “Chop these for me? I need to replenish my potions and salves.” 

Not something she can do right away, she realizes; her alchemy supplies are still at the apartment. Along with almost everything else. In her rush to save Vasco she didn’t grab anything aside from what she’d need to keep him alive. 

There are things she should go and get. Things that might make their life easier. Like her dowry. Thousands of coin worth of jewels and gold from the continent. 

The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes she needs to go now. Before folks at the palace clear things out and try to force her back into life as a politician. 

“I need to go back to the apartment, Vasco. There are things I did not grab in my rush to get to you.”

Vasco looks concerned. “Do you need me to come with you?” 

Elizabet shakes her head. “Too risky. I want as few people as possible to know I’m with you. Kurt’s the only one who knows for certain. Petrus will assume as much too; he knows that I wanted to leave with you when you returned to the island.” 

He gives her a kiss. “Be safe. Please.” She nods, giving him one last kiss before departing for the apartment. 

On her way she sees a teenage boy dressed in dirty clothes and offers him the equivalent of a months’ wages if he helps her bring her luggage to the port and remains discreet. He happily accepts, looking amazed at his good fortune. 

Her key still works so they haven’t changed the locks at least. She slips in and quietly makes her way upstairs. There’s little she needs to grab - her alchemy supplies, dowry, a scarf that belonged to Constantin, her jewelry box, a few changes of clothes and her medical textbooks. 

She has some coin stashed under her bed; she packs it as well. 

The sound of someone walking up the stairs startles her and she readies a spell in her hands before turning around. It’s Judy. Immediately she dispels her spell and the shadow in her hands disappears. 

“Your Excellency! I was told by Lady Morange that you would not be returning.” 

“I’m not, Judy. I am just here to grab my things. I will not be long and if you could keep my visit a secret I would appreciate it,” she says, handing Judy a bag of gold. 

“You need not give me such a sum!” Judy stammers, holding the bag in her hand as if testing the weight of it. 

“I would like to. You’ve been excellent to work with and I will miss you.”

“Where will you go, if that’s not too bold to ask?”

She smiles at Judy. “I don’t know yet,” she says honestly. 

Judy helps her carry her things down the stairs and she packs them away in a trunk. “It’s been a pleasure, Judy. Thank you for everything,” she says as she pushes the trunk out the door. 

The young man she hired carries the trunk easily and they make their way back to port. They’re just entering the public area of the port when she encounters Flavia and Jonas who both wave at her. 

“Your Excellency! Returning to Sérène?” Flavia says as she runs up to her. Jonas takes the trunk from the boy she hired and Elizabet dismisses him, handing him the gold she promised, along with a little extra. 

“Not sure where I’m headed. For now, back to the admiral’s cabin.” 

Flavia and Jonas give each other a look before turning back to her. “So...” Flavia starts. 

“I’m staying in the admiral’s spare room with Vasco,” Elizabet responds, correctly assuming Flavia’s line of inquiry. 

Flavia practically jumps up and down with excitement. “Glad to know you two figured it out! Was depressing seeing Cap so unhappy. Is he well? Admiral Cabral told us he will live but nothing more and we haven’t seen him.” 

That’s her fault; they’ve mostly been sticking close to the cabin, with a few walks around port. But this is the first she’s seen any members of his crew. “He’s recovering. I’ve insisted he rest for awhile. His injuries were severe and he’s lucky to be alive.” 

“You healed him, Your Excellency?” Jonas asks. 

“Elizabet. Please, both of you, call me Elizabet. I’m noble no longer. Yes, I’m the one who healed him.” 

“Thought as much. Admiral Cabral had me run a letter to your house once the crows left her cabin. We all knew it was bad but nobody would tell us how bad.” 

“Not callin’ you ‘Elizabet’; far too fancy a name. How’s Lizzie?” Flavia says. 

Elizabet smiles, happy to be accepted so readily. “Lizzie is perfect.” 

“How bad was it, Lizzie?” Flavia says, looking as if she’s unsure if she wants to know the answer. 

“I’ll have Vasco tell the story. I imagine he’ll be pleased to visit with you once we get to the cabin.” 

Jonas helps her get the trunk inside and Vasco, who is sitting at the table, looks on with curiosity. Flavia rushes over and wraps her arms around his neck. “Glad you’re not dead, Vasco.” 

“Have Elizabet to thank for that.” 

“They were asking for the story, Love. Thought we could sit outside and chat if you feel up for it.” 

Vasco grins. “I’ll be glad for the fresh air and company.” 

The four of them make their way outside and sit at the edge of the pier. “So what was going on with you?” Flavia asks. 

“Will probably need Elizabet to help with some of the details. I... wasn’t bleeding internally? I think? But the wound on my back wasn’t cleaned properly and festered. She used her magic to fix me up.” 

“All bruises are internal bleeding but yours weren’t life threatening. It had resolved itself without additional treatment,” Elizabet clarifies. 

“The cut on my back hurt like hell. Kept getting worse. And the fever was brutal. Could hardly breathe by the end. Elizabet is a damn good doctor,” Vasco says, wrapping an arm around her. She rests her head on his shoulder. 

“Will it leave a scar?” Jonas asks. 

“Aye. Still bandaged up but track me down in a few weeks and I’ll show it off.” 

“Glad you found one another and decided to make it work, Vasco. Another voyage with you so glum and we’d all have turned to drink,” Flavia says. 

“I wasn’t that bad!” Vasco argues. 

“Yes he was,” Flavia tells her, and Jonas nods in agreement. 

“I get it. This last year I’m certain Kurt was tempted to throw me to the beasts on this island at times. Was told more than once to ‘stop singing those damn sad songs by the fire!’ as we travelled.” 

“You wrote a song about me?” Vasco cuts in. 

“More than one. Some nights I was so sad all I could do was put pen to parchment.” 

“Would you... sing them for me sometime?” 

She smiles at him. “I would, but allow me to write at least one happier song first.” 

Vasco kisses her on the cheek. “Never thought anyone would ever write anything about me.” 

“How could I not? Meeting you changed everything. In ways I didn’t understand at first.” She cups his face, turns it and kisses him. 

Flavia makes a face. “If you’re going to go all soft and affectionate I’m outta here.” 

Vasco laughs. “Thought this was what you wanted? You pestered me enough about telling Elizabet how I feel. And it’s not as if you’ve never seen me kiss before...” 

Flavia’s eyes narrow. “...We both agreed that was a mistake!” 

“Quite an unfortunate one, yes.” 

Elizabet looks confused. “They shagged in a rented room at the Sérène Coin Tavern several years ago,” Jonas explains. “And I had to listen to Flavia complain about how weird it was for weeks afterwards.”

“It was!” 

“I was going to tell her myself, Jonas,” Vasco grumbles. 

The image of the two of them sitting regretfully in bed post-sex is hilarious; Elizabet bursts out laughing and laughs until her sides hurt and tears are rolling down her cheeks. It’s so nice to feel light once more. “Finding out like this is far more entertaining,” she says when she’s able to speak again. “So what was weird about it?” 

“Felt like I’d just fucked a sibling. Which I guess I kind of did,” Flavia says. 

“What she said. We’ve been stationed on the same ship together for years now. Flavia’s like a sister to me.” 

It’s nice visiting with Flavia and Jonas. She gives them both a hug when they depart; they’re a little surprised but both accept the embrace happily. 

“Elizabet’s a hugger,” Vasco explains. 

Once back in the cabin Elizabet opens the trunk. Mostly to show Vasco her dowry. She pulls it out and opens the chest and Vasco’s jaw drops. 

“Mother told me I’d likely never marry, but sent my dowry with me anyway. It’ll be good to have money and valuables set aside in case we need it.” 

“How... much is all of that worth?” Vasco’s eyes are as big as dinner plates. 

“Upwards of 15,000 gold pieces.” 

“I need to sit down.” Vasco moves to the couch and sits, staring at the chest. “I’ve never seen so much money in my life.” 

“It would be enough to live on for some time, if that’s the route we choose.” 

“This is... not everything, is it?” 

Elizabet shakes her head. “There’s more in the bank. But if I am to disappear much of it will be lost to us. I can withdraw as much as I can beforehand without arousing suspicion.”

“You... do realize that I’ll never be able to provide you with a life like that? I’ll never be wealthy. As a captain my wage is good but Elizabet, our life won’t be what you’re accustomed to.” 

“Of course I know that,” she says simply.

“Can you accept this? To never go to another fancy party, or sleep in a luxurious bed? To live in a cabin or in my quarters of a cramped ship? I -“ He speaks quickly, nervously, as if the money in the chest has sparked some sort of frantic realization in him. 

“Vasco,” she interrupts gently, “I know. And I’m fine with it. More than fine. I want a life with you. Life on Tír Fradí taught me a few things.”

“What did it teach you?”

She sits down beside him and rests a hand on his knee. “That when I’m out in the bush or in a village, the panic quiets down. There’s a peace that I don’t feel anywhere else. It was the same when we looked up at the sky together at sea. I just didn’t recognize it then because I’d just said goodbye to Mother and my grief was so overwhelming. My home is on the sea and Vignamri.”

“You’re - sure?” 

“I was twelve the first time someone tried to assassinate me. Walking away from that life is fine with me.” 

“I just don’t want to be the cause of your bitterness years from now,” he says, unable to look at her. He pauses. “Twelve?!” 

Elizabet nods. “Kurt killed two of them. I killed the third with my magic. My first time killing someone.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Love, I’m choosing a life with you. Whatever it ends up looking like. So long as I’m with you and I can heal people I’ll be happy. I... know what we have is new. That we’re still figuring it out. Still getting to know each other in many ways. But I’m committed. Completely and without reservations. And I can’t wait until we know everything there is to know about each other. When we understand one another entirely.” 

Vasco’s breath hitches and when he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Me too. My heart is yours. Forever.”


	5. Into the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco comes up with a daring plan to free Elizabet from her uncle’s grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: brief reference to suicidal ideation and descriptions of a swimmer in distress and in danger.

“You need to be dead,” Vasco says out of the blue as they are lying in bed together. 

She looks at him, in horror. “What...do you mean?” Surely he doesn’t mean to kill her? 

“Sorry!” He says sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to scare you. If your uncle thinks you’re dead, he won’t waste resources trying to track you down.”

“So you can just write a letter to Constantin’s advisors telling them I died? Came down with some sort of illness?”

Vasco shakes his head. “They won’t buy it. Too obvious what we’re doing. It needs to be a spectacle. With witnesses. And no body.”

“What do you have in mind?”

He looks up and down her body as she lies in his arms. “How good a swimmer are you, Tempest?” 

Fuck.

***

When she deems Vasco well enough to travel they go to Vignamri to meet her aunt and to seek her help for their plan. A quiet enough journey; prior to leaving she told Vasco about the various wildlife they can expect to encounter and how to defeat them if they attack. 

“So you went hunting, then?” He asks as they walk. 

“Wouldn’t call it that. The animals are often aggressive so we had no choice but to put them down. Gave me plenty of opportunity to practice my skills on fresh corpses. And I sold the pelts to pay for the bribes I was occasionally required to give.” 

“You hardly seem the bribing type.” 

“Love, you have no idea how much I spent on bribes in the last year. I got very good at offering them discreetly.” 

“A surprisingly useful skill to have.” 

She didn’t bother to bring a tent. Instead she builds them a fire and they huddle close together and stare up at the sky. “I often wondered if we ever looked up at the sky at the same time. Watched the stars together even though a sea separated us.” 

“I looked up at the stars every time I could. Even when thinking of you was unbearable I did because it made me feel close to you, despite the distance separating us.” 

They wake at sunrise in one another’s arms. 

When they walk the path up to Vignamri her aunt walks towards them and greets her with a hug. “Who is this you’ve brought, _Magem_?” Elizabet suspects she already knows the answer but is asking to be polite. 

“This is Vasco. He is the sea captain who brought me to Tír Fradí. We... intend to live together but need your help, _Modryb_ Slàn.” 

Her aunt looks at Vasco briefly before pulling him into a hug. Vasco stills before returning the hug and looks surprisingly moved by the gesture. 

“We should speak privately. The fewer people overhear, the better,” Vasco says, quietly enough that only they can hear. 

Once inside the cabin, they sit at a table. “Is there a cliff anywhere on the island, high enough to look as if a fall into the water would be fatal, without actually being overly dangerous? With water deep enough for a person to jump into, but just rough enough to sweep a weak swimmer out to sea?” Vasco asks. 

“Preferably near a village,” Elizabet adds. 

“I know of a place. Why do you need this?” 

“The world needs to think I’m dead. If I jump off a cliff into the sea with witnesses nearby, it won’t matter that there’s no body. And that will mean Adrien d’Orsay doesn’t send people after me and Vasco and I are free to live our lives in peace.” 

“But can you swim, Elizabet?”

“Not well,” she admits. 

“I intend to dive in after her. I’m a Naut so naturally, I’m a strong swimmer. I’ve saved people from drowning in worse conditions. I’ll make sure she knows how to jump safely without hurting herself. But when I swim with her to shore I’ll do so away from anyone who can see. We’ll need you to raise the alarm and keep people off our trail.” 

Her aunt looks at her, clearly concerned. “This is very dangerous.” She’s relieved not to hear disapproval in her aunt’s voice, at least, just fear. 

“We’re aware. It’s the best I’ve come up with. Any other cause of death and the nobility will demand a body. They need to think she drowned and it needs to look real.” 

“It’s common knowledge I’ve been melancholy after...everything. Nobody’ll be shocked,” Elizabet says. 

“And what if you cannot save her, Vasco?”

“Then the sea will take two people that day because I will not stop looking for her.” 

Elizabet looks sharply at Vasco. “No. Absolutely not. You are not dying with me if this fails!” 

“It’s my job to save you.” 

“I’m willing to die to be free of Adrien. I won’t allow anyone else to die too.” 

“It’s my choice,” he says firmly and with finality before softening. “This is all theoretical, anyway. I won’t fail to save you and we will both make it to shore. Wet and sore, yes, but very much alive.” 

“Why put yourself at risk for me?” 

He takes her hand in his. “Because I love you. Because I had to sail away from you once and I’ll not leave you again.” 

His sweetness fills her with doubt. That she’s no longer good enough for the man beside her. A man who is brilliant and good, who makes smart decisions and deserves only the best. “What if I’m not worth it? I’m not the woman I was. I’ve made bad decisions. I’ll be responsible for the war between the Congregation and the Bridge Alliance.” 

“You are worth it, Tempest. It’s been a year. You’ve changed, yes. But you’re still the kind, clever, generous and gentle woman I fell in love with.”

It’s been a long time since she’s felt even remotely gentle. Often she’s wondered if the last year has made her cruel. Killed her ability to feel compassion or mercy. “Can’t start a war and remain gentle.” She can’t meet his eye; too ashamed of the decisions she made that day. 

“Wasn’t you who started it. Was the doctor who poisoned your cousin who started it, from what you’ve told me.” 

“People will die.” 

“Such is life. All we can hope is that it will bring about necessary change.” He speaks so casually about death; far more accepting of it than she would have thought for a man her age. But, then again, she’s now the same. She’s seen so much death this past year; made peace with her own death and was shocked when it never came. 

“He is your _minundhanem_ ,” _Modryb_ Slàn says to her that night once he’s left the cabin to wash up before bed. 

“I’m not sure what that word means but I’ve heard you say it before.” 

“Soulmate.”

She looks up at her aunt. “I suppose he is. We knew each other only four months before we were forced to separate. But he was never far from my thoughts... as you were well aware. This is such a whirlwind but it feels right. More right than anything has felt in a long time.” 

“I like him. He’s intelligent. Thoughtful. But more importantly, he loves you. And he’s a very handsome man.” 

Her face turns red. “Yes, he’s rather attractive.” 

“Arelwin was fond of long hair too. Your dad’s hair was long. It was from him you inherited your hair.” 

“How did they meet?” 

“They grew up together. But did not become close until he was wounded during a hunt. She healed him and never took her eyes off him again. He died trying to save her.” 

“I won’t let Vasco die trying to save me,” she says quietly. 

When she climbs into bed next to him she sees he’s holding a folder in his hands. Unopened, and he’s staring at it as if he’s unsure what to do. “What is that?” 

“Contains the name of my family. My origins. I couldn’t wait any longer so I bribed a guard to sneak it out of the harbourmaster’s office. Known him since we were kids; he won’t say anything about it.” 

“You had told me you wanted to know where you came from. That you thought you were born to nobility from the Congregation.” 

He sighs. “Yes, and the answer is right here in this folder.” He opens it and looks at the paperwork within. “My real name is...Leandre d’Arcy.” 

Her heart sinks when she hears the last name and Vasco looks at her. “What’s the matter?” 

“There was a Congregation citizen found dead in Hikmet. An investigation revealed a merchant he had failed to pay had sent hired thugs after him. Last name was d’Arcy. He was almost certainly your brother.” 

Vasco’s face falls. “Fuck.” 

“I’d encountered him as a child at court. But I remember very little of him. I’m so sorry.” 

“Are - his parents on the island?” 

She shakes her head. “Back in Sérène. I wrote the letter informing them personally. Their address is in the logbook in my bag...if you wanted to, you could go see them next time we’re in Sérène.” 

“I’ll consider it. Not sure I want to reopen old wounds any more than I have tonight.”

“I understand. If you ever want their address, all you need is ask, Love.” 

“Strange to think I spent my childhood polishing ship bridges when I could have been wearing silk.” 

“Nobility is not as easy a life as you think.” 

He pulls her close. “I know that now. You’re prepared to risk death rather than return to it. I wonder if we had anything in common, despite our different upbringings?” He says wistfully. 

She wishes she could tell him. That she could remember something - anything, about his brother. 

***

“There’s more rocks down there than I’d hoped,” Vasco mutters as they stand at the edge of the cliff. 

“We might hit the rocks,” Elizabet says. 

“Or the waves throw us into them.” 

“Do we come up with something else?” 

Vasco shakes his head. “This is our best chance. You know how to jump safely; we should get this over with before we change our minds.”

Admittedly, now that she’s staring at the water below, she’s hesitant. She worries - not for herself, but for Vasco, who is going in after her. 

_Modryb_ Slàn pulls her into a tight hug. “I will meet you both in the woods outside Vignamri. Be safe, _Magem_.” She turns and gives Vasco a hug too. “Be safe, Vasco.” 

“Ready to make a fuss? You’ll need to be loud,” Vasco says to her aunt. 

Her clothes are as light as possible to keep them from weighing her down in the water. Vasco plans to throw off his coat before diving in after her; an effort to make their ruse look more realistic. “I’ll be in the water 20 seconds after you. Cast a ball of light and I’ll find you and help you to shore. Keep your mouth closed and prepare yourself for the cold. All goes well, you’ll be dead to the world in ten minutes and we’ll be on our way back to Vignamri by morning.” 

They’ve stashed supplies in a cave off the coast to warm up and rest for the night before making their way back to meet her aunt. She’s anticipating having to patch them both up too, given the rocks below. 

“Let’s get this over with.” Her stomach is in knots. Her aunt nods at her; trying but failing to hide the worry on her face. 

“Feet first, toes pointed, Tempest, keep your arms close to your body and kick to the surface as hard as you can. You’ll hit the water fast.” 

“I’m ready.” Vasco and _Modryb_ Slàn are looking intently at her and, before she has a chance to really think about what she’s doing, she jumps, just as Vasco instructed. As she falls she hears both her aunt and Vasco scream her name - part of their plan, to ensure the nearby village hears the commotion. 

All the air in her lungs rushes out of her when she hits the water. She’s sent deep underwater and she kicks, as hard as she can, but the waves overpower her and despite her best efforts, she can’t reach the surface. Panic blooms and she finds herself growing frantic as her lungs begin to burn. 

She didn’t hear Vasco enter the water over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks. Did he make it? 

A wave sends her against the rocks and the force of it is bruising, but at least it sends her to the surface, allowing her to take in a gulp of air. She sees Vasco and waves her arms; too drained to shout for him. 

The water pulls her under once more. She’s made a huge mistake; this isn’t survivable and she’s damned them both. But still, she kicks, reaching for the surface, swearing to fight until the oxygen is gone and her body stills for good because if she doesn’t then Vasco dies too. 

An arm wraps around her waist, holding her roughly and pulling her to the surface and she gasps, scrambling to try to hold on to him, knowing if he loses his grip on her she won’t make it. But he won’t let her grab him, adjusting so he’s got a hold of her underneath her own arms.

“I have you. Try not to panic; I have you,” he says breathlessly as he makes his way to shore with her. He moves so powerfully her exhausted mind wonders if perhaps he’s using some form of magic to speed his movements. That maybe Naut magic exists after all, even if that warehouse she broke into showed her they rely on science and not magic to travel the seas. 

It’s impossible to know how long she was in the water for before Vasco found her. It felt like forever. But they hit the shore and Vasco lifts her up onto it before climbing up himself, collapsing next to her on the rock, breathing hard. 

“You need to check your lungs. Make sure you haven’t breathed in any water,” Vasco says when he’s able to talk again. 

“What about yours?” 

“I’m good. I know how to swim.”

Her back stings now that her body is starting to relax. Scratched and torn up from hitting those rocks. She checks to confirm that she hasn’t taken in any water and that the injuries to her back are not serious. “I’ll live,” she says simply. 

“Good to go to the cave?” She nods in response and stands, her legs shaking from exertion. Vasco wraps an arm around her and holds her up as they move slowly towards the cave. 

“Your aunt sent witnesses in the other direction. We weren’t seen,” he says. 

“Word will reach New Sérène?” 

“In a few days I imagine.” They get to the cave and Vasco sets her down, working to get a fire going. 

“Do Nauts learn how to build camp fires?”

“They do if their lover’s aunt shows them.”

She moves to try to help him but he puts his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “You’re exhausted and injured. Rest, Elizabet.” 

“But you swam with both of us to shore.” 

He smirks at her. “You’re not the first person I’ve saved from drowning and that was hardly the worst circumstances in which I’ve done it. Saved a lad who fell overboard into ice cold water a couple years back.” 

“You’d mentioned that. That’s one of your tattoos isn’t it?” 

“It is. Hypothermia is far more dangerous than this was. We warm up, tend to your back, get some sleep and we’ll be mostly fine by morning.” 

She pulls a bottle of alcohol out of the bag stashed in the cave and a clean cloth, handing them to Vasco. Unbuttoning her shirt, she tries to slide it off her shoulders, but the movement hurts and she hisses in pain. 

Vasco intervenes, gently helping her remove it. “How does it look?” She asks. 

“Unpleasant. I’d say one of the cuts should be stitched if you aren’t able to heal it.” 

She will probably be able to heal herself enough to get by without stitches. “Do you know how to stitch a wound?” 

“The basics. You’ll not thank me for it, I expect.” 

“Probably won’t need you to, anyway. Can you clean my back?” 

He nods, and dabs at her back as gently as he can. It’s not nearly as bad as cleaning an injury usually is - the salt water of the ocean had stung just as much so she’s used to the pain of it by now. When he’s done she sends healing energy to her back, willing the cuts and scrapes to knit back together. 

She’s so tired; the physical exertion and the panic of nearly drowning overwhelming her but she’s able to heal the worst of it so her back is a tight pattern of scabbed over cuts and scrapes. It’s stiff and itches but it will be enough for now. 

Vasco’s taken off his wet clothing and is sitting naked before her, and he’s so beautiful it almost hurts. It’s a novel thing to her still, seeing him naked. She’d seen him with his shirt off plenty of times on the voyage to Tír Fradí; he sleeps shirtless, but she hadn’t actually seen him naked until they made love for the first time. 

He notices her staring. “Enjoying the view?” 

“Very much so. I wish I had the energy to do more than sleep.” 

“Even if you did, I sure don’t. Need a hand getting your breeches off?” She shakes her head and slides them down her legs with a little bit of effort as the wet fabric clings to her skin. As she does so, Vasco stares just as intently as she was. “You’re beautiful.” 

Now naked, she settles just behind Vasco and he drapes a blanket over them and she pulls him against her chest. “Thanks for rescuing me, Love.” She whispers, kissing him between the shoulder blades. 

“I’d dive into the sea a million times more to keep you safe.” 

***

It’s a slow walk to the woods near Vignamri. She’s still exhausted and they’re both terribly sore. So a walk that normally would have taken them a day and a half takes four. But she makes it and they settle in the tent her aunt had left in the woods for them. 

“You’re free, Elizabet. What would you like to do?”

She’d always assumed she would join the Nauts and be a doctor on his ship. “I thought we’d go to sea. Is there something else you’d rather do?”

He sighs. “I’m unsure. I keep circling back to something the admiral told me just before we left the port. That I need to figure out who I want to be.” 

Elizabet looks at him and her heart breaks. She sees the deep sadness on his face that she saw occasionally during the early days of their voyage, before they started to get to know one another. “Your family,” she says simply. 

“Aye. I’ve been bitter my whole life. It’s making it difficult for her to trust me. ‘You’re the best sailor we have but your heart’s not in it’ she told me.” 

“Would staying here with my aunt make you happy? She’d be pleased to have us.” 

He looks torn. “I don’t know. I’m a sailor. It’s what I’m good at. I love doing it. But I don’t know who I am or where I come from!” He lowers his voice; so quiet she has to strain to hear him, even right beside him. “I need to know my family.” 

She takes his hand. “What if we went to Sérène? You can see about meeting your parents. See how you feel afterwards. If you decide you’re happy as a Naut, I’ll join up and be a doctor on your ship. If not, we’ll figure something else out.” 

“Come back here and you can be a healer. I’d find something to keep me busy. Teach the kids how to fight, cook for the village, that sort of thing. There is one important thing we’ve yet to consider.”

“What is that?”

“Do you want children? If you do, life as Nauts would not be a good fit for us. I accepted as a child I’d never be a father but things were different for you...” 

Elizabet shakes her head. “I never wanted kids. My whole childhood I was told I’d be a mother; give birth to heirs who would carry on my husband’s family name. But when I was told that all I thought was that children would keep me from learning more about magic. About healing. And - what if I wanted to marry a woman? I couldn’t do that if I was expected to give birth to heirs.” 

“A life without children of our own suits me just fine.” 

“Would the admiral have you sail to Sérène as captain of the Sea Horse?” 

“I’ll need to speak with her. I would hope so and I can see about making some sort of arrangement so your round trip passage is free. Have you act as the ship’s doctor in exchange. She’d probably go for it; see it as a way of attempting to lure you into the life properly. And luring me to accept my lot in life.” 

Normally the unknown makes her horribly anxious. Elizabet De Sardet is a planner. And they don’t have much of a plan right now. But it doesn’t bother her. Because they’re together and wherever they end up, it will be together. 

“Can we tell Kurt I’m still alive?” She says suddenly. 

“Better to wait until the prince has come and gone. So he’s not having to lie. I’m sorry Tempest.” 

It’s hard, knowing that Kurt will mourn her. Not to mention her other allies. But Kurt, who she’s known since she was ten years old, who is a brother to her...it breaks her heart. But by the time they return to New Sérène, a year or more will have gone by and it’s possible that Adrien would be on his way back to Sérène with the knowledge that his niece and heir apparent is dead. Swept away by the cruel sea. 

_Modryb_ Slàn arrives the next morning and hugs her fiercely. “I had been so worried Elizabet,” she says. 

“Vasco’s a good swimmer.” She turns and gives Vasco a hug as well. 

“Someone was sent to New Sérène to give the news. There were enough witnesses that there is no doubt of your fate. Yours too, Vasco, though nobody knows who you are.” 

“Admiral Cabral will worry,” Elizabet says. 

Vasco shakes his head. “She knows me well enough to know it is a ruse. Won’t even be surprised when we walk into port. But she’ll be convincing when someone arrives with the news, don’t worry.”


	6. A Skeleton Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events at sea threaten the lives of everyone on board.

As they make their way back to the port in New Sérène, her face is carefully covered with a scarf, and she wears a hat. By now, news of her death has spread. 

It’s strange being dead. 

As Vasco told her, the admiral does not look shocked when she sees them approach. “Getting around pretty good for a couple of corpses,” she says in greeting. 

“We may be dead but we’ll still be useful to you.” 

The admiral’s eyes narrow. “That was a foolish risk. There were other ways to achieve your goal.” 

“Such as?” Vasco bristles beside her. 

“She fell overboard on the voyage to Sérène. Bad storm. You searched for days but couldn’t find her. Breakout of contagious illness and she died. Had to toss her body overboard to keep it from spreading. Any number of other ways to fake a death where not having a body is plausible.” 

It’s bizarre hearing them talk of ways for her to pretend to die. 

“It wouldn’t have been as easily bought,” Vasco argues. “This way there were witnesses. People who couldn’t possibly have been involved in a plot to fake her death.” 

“And people are saying you did it. That you pushed a noble off a cliff. Not just any noble, but the niece of Prince d’Orsay! Do you have any idea what this is doing to our reputation in the city? The only advantage we have is that the nobility don’t know your name and they think you died alongside her. They’d be calling for your head otherwise!”

Elizabet interrupts. “Should I give you two some privacy?” 

“Come into my office, Vasco,” the admiral says, leaving Elizabet to stand awkwardly in the port, unsure of what she should be doing. 

It’s about an hour later when Vasco returns to her side, looking deeply unhappy. “I’ve shown ‘poor judgement’, she says. Wants the two of us out of here while she deals with the mess she says I made so we’re leaving for Sérène in the morning.” 

“On the Sea Horse?” 

“No. Admiral says until I’ve ‘sorted my shit out’ she doesn’t trust me at the helm. A demotion, effectively,” he says bitterly. 

“I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I think you were right.” 

“Afraid that doesn’t mean much though I appreciate the sentiment regardless. Admiral Cabral told me she’d appreciate it if you ran the infirmary. Won’t charge you for the trip if you do.” 

“I’d be happy to do so. We’ll figure it out, Love.” 

He sighs in response. 

***

It’s a bit surreal to be crossing the sea again. When she boarded the Sea Horse back in Sérène, she had her doubts she’d ever see the continent again. To be honest, she had no real interest in ever returning. 

Vasco’s unhappy. He’s frustrated with the admiral’s decision and struggling with his identity. But he’s making the best of it; keeping his head down and working hard, generally staying out of Captain Tony’s way. Captain Tony looks to be in his late 50s and presents himself with an arrogance that strikes her as unearned. 

The captain has made his distrust for her evident. He doesn’t like having someone who hasn’t formally joined the Nauts in the infirmary. “Looking to gather all the secrets you can, my lady?” He sneers at her.

“Just trying to be helpful and keep everyone safe,” she responds. “I’m working at the admiral’s request.” 

“Your name ain’t on the manifest. Look at me wrong and I’ll toss you overboard. Your status means shit to me, understood?” 

“Understood,” she says quietly, hiding her hands so he doesn’t notice them shaking. He gives her one last look before walking out of the infirmary. 

She doesn’t tell Vasco that the captain threatened her. If she did she knows he’d speak up in her defence and she worries what this man would do to him. It’s unlikely he would kill Vasco, but there are plenty of ways to make someone suffer without killing them. She won’t be the cause of his suffering. Enough people have gotten hurt or will get hurt because of her. 

They sleep in the infirmary. Because he’s not the captain or an officer on this voyage, he wasn’t given private quarters. Nor was she, so the infirmary is the most private place they can find. Luckily it’s empty much of the time; she’s mostly dealt with seasickness and minor injuries. 

With his back fully healed she massages the scar every evening in an attempt to ease the stiffness in the area. “Does it pain you?” 

“Occasionally but it’s fine.” 

“Let me try something.” Concentrating, she casts a healing spell in an attempt to lessen the build-up of scar tissue. His body stiffens and she stops. “I’m hurting you,” she says apologetically. 

“Keep going. See what you can do for it; I’ll endure.” 

She concentrates again and focuses her magic once more. It’s not a huge improvement by the time she cuts off the spell once more, but it might prove helpful. 

Some evenings they chance locking the infirmary door so they can make love, knowing that Captain Tony has a key. That he would find some reason to take offence at their attempts to find a little bit of privacy in which to enjoy one another. 

“Most of the crew don’t bother to speak with me,” Vasco tells her as he holds her against his body, naked and damp with perspiration. She runs her fingers along his abdomen, his muscles twitching under her touch. 

Elizabet looks up at him. “No? Why not?” 

“My tattoos tell them I’m a captain yet I’m with them as a mere sailor. They would assume I am either a criminal or someone who did something stupid at sea. And so they do not trust me.” 

“I’m sure I don’t help matters.” None of the crew seem to know what to think of the noble-appearing woman who is running the infirmary. 

“Our relationship would be more a curiosity than anything.” 

“Can you tell them you’re not a criminal? That your demotion was my fault?”

Vasco lifts his head and looks at her sternly. “It wasn’t your fault. Don’t say that.” 

“Wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t trying to get me away from Adrien.” 

“Yes, it wouldn’t have because I’d be long dead without you. Admiral Cabral’s been frustrated with me for some time. This was inevitable. I suspect she thinks that with your help I’ll figure out who I want to be. Either make peace with my life or fuck off and start a new one.” 

“Have you made any progress one way or another?” 

Vasco looks frustrated. “No.” 

All she can do is kiss him gently. A small gesture of comfort. Vasco cups her face and runs his thumb along her lower lip. “I have you. Your love. It’s more than I’ve ever had before.” 

The first half of the voyage is uneventful. But, shortly after the halfway point, everything goes wrong. 

It’s the middle of the night when the sound of a bell ringing wakes them up. Vasco shoots straight up. “What is it?” She asks sleepily. 

“Nothing good, Tempest.” The ship rocks sharply, then, sending them flying off the cots they’d pulled together. They hit the wall with a thud. “I need to see what’s going on; stay here.” 

“It can’t be a storm, can it? To come up that suddenly?” 

“No. Ran afoul a kraken, more likely.”

“What?! Those don’t actually exist, do they?”

“They’re real, I assure you. They lurk deep beneath the sea. So long as you stay out of their territory they’re content to live and let live. Captain Tony’s sailed us where we shouldn’t be.” Vasco looks grim as he says this. 

“I’m coming with you.” 

“Like hell you are,” he shoots back. 

“I use magic! I’ve fought giant creatures before and I can stun it.” 

The ship rocks in the other direction, sending them flying once more. “People are going to die. We need your magic for healing!”

“I can’t heal people if there isn’t a ship left to save, Vasco! I have magic potions. They need us and we’re wasting time arguing!” 

He doesn’t say anything more; simply making his way over to where his pistol and sword are and grabs them. 

“Sailors survive these attacks, right?” She’s scared and she’s sure it’s obvious. 

“I know only one who has,” he says. 

“Who?” 

“Admiral Cabral. When she was just a sailor.” He looks at her, both mournful and terrified before opening the door to head on deck. She follows behind him. 

It’s chaos on the deck; ocean spray flying in their faces, debris and dead bodies everywhere. She hears the sound of rifles being loaded and fired. Turning around, she gets her first look at the creature. As large as the _Nadaig_ Constantin controlled, it has numerous tentacles more than capable of ripping the ship apart. 

Captain Tony is at the railing, doing his best to keep it distracted; slicing through any flesh that comes within striking distance. The creature, tiring of his attacks, wraps a long tentacle around him, lifting him in the air. 

It’s too dark to see what it did, but she does hear the captain’s corpse drop onto the deck with a dull thud. She casts a stasis spell to hold it still for a few seconds to give the crew a chance to regroup. “Can you get us out of here if I maintain the spell?” She shouts to Vasco. 

“Not as long as it’s holding onto the ship. It’d rip us apart!” 

“Then we need to focus on breaking its hold on the ship. Then I can cast my spell and you can get us as far away as possible!” 

“How long can you hold it?” 

She hesitates. “If I throw everything I have into it, a minute, tops. Assuming the crew disengages entirely and doesn’t hit it while it’s stunned.” 

Vasco’s eyes sweep over the deck, to the dying sailors and passengers, knowing that if she taps herself out, there’ll be no saving most of them. “It’s the best idea we have. Get into position.” 

The remaining crew, who’ve overheard this exchange, immediately follow the orders Vasco shouts at them. He runs to the helm, ready to steer the ship the moment he’s able, and the crew fires shots at the tentacles holding the ship. The goal is no longer to kill it, but to convince it to let go of them. 

It works. The tentacles withdraw, and she concentrates, throwing everything she has into a stasis that stops the creature. She holds the spell, sending more energy at it as the seconds go on to give Vasco and the remaining crew enough time to flee. 

She feels the ship cut through the waves and turn, but as she struggles to hold the spell, her vision goes black, her nose starts bleeding and her head pounds. As the spell ends, she crumples to the deck in a dead faint. 

***

A beam of light through the porthole wakes her and she knows it’s morning. So they made it, somehow. She sits up and a wave a dizziness overwhelms her and she rests her head on the pillow once more. Looking around, she sees five other people; some passengers, some crew, in varying states. A quick glance tells her two of them are unlikely to make it - both passengers. One crew member looks to have a broken leg. Two others might make it, if she’s able to muster the energy to heal them. 

She needs to try to get up again. Moving slower, she first sits up, takes a few deep breaths, and then she stands. Once confident she won’t fall over she starts walking out of the infirmary in search of Vasco. 

The thought that he didn’t survive the attack hits her and she pushes it away forcefully. He was the one giving orders. They’re away from the beast. He had to have survived. 

“My lady! You shouldn’t be out of bed!” One of the sailors - a man named Julien, runs to her and catches her when her legs give out. 

“Where’s Vasco?” She asks as he gently brings her down onto the deck. 

“At the helm. I’ll relieve him.” 

It takes a moment for her to realize that means he’s alive. Not just alive, but he must not have been wounded badly. 

She hears loud footsteps. “Tempest!” He falls to his knees beside her and takes her hand. “What are you doing out of bed?” 

“Needed to know you made it and people need healing,” she says. 

“You’re in no condition to heal. That spell you cast nearly killed you! We’re getting you right back into bed and I’ll have someone bring you some food and some tea.” 

“Did we get away?”

“Thanks to you we did. Got far enough away from it that it realized we were leaving and decided not to re-engage.” 

“There are people in the infirmary who are unlikely to survive if I don’t heal them. And two who won’t make it regardless,” she says as he lifts her up. 

“I know. What can we do to keep them comfortable?” 

Her eyes well up. This is a reality of being a doctor, but she never thought her own lack of energy would be what kills someone. 

“It’s not your fault. You’re the reason the ship still floats.” 

“The bottles are labelled in the cabinet. If... the two who aren’t going to make it for certain choose it, you can give them a sleeping potion coupled with a poison that will stop their breathing. Give them a peaceful death.”

Vasco nods. “I’ll handle it. You need to rest - for at least the next two days.”

She wants to tell him she’ll probably be able to get around well enough by tomorrow but he sounds so sick with worry that she doesn’t want to make him feel worse. So, for now she doesn’t argue. 

Hours later she wakes up to see him tattooing another line; this time on his left thumb. “Getting really sick of getting attacked by giant beasts,” he says when he notices she’s awake. 

“How are you holding up otherwise? Were you hurt?” 

“Not seriously. Bruises, sore muscles. I got lucky. We...lost those two passengers. I sat with them so they weren’t alone.” The way he looks at her breaks her heart and she rests a hand on his knee. Utter devastation and fear. 

“I’m sorry. There’s more, isn’t there?” 

Vasco nods. “I’ll not trouble you with my burdens until you’re well once more.”

“How are the others? I should examine them at least,” she moves to try to get up. 

“No magic, Elizabet.” 

She looks at him, baffled. “Why not?” 

“Because you need to rest. The spell you cast last night...” 

“It’s been almost a day. I’m tired but I’ll be fine.” 

“You weren’t breathing!” Vasco blurts out. 

“...What?” 

“When Julien got to you. You dropped right to the ground and you weren’t breathing. Spent too much energy stopping the Kraken. Lucky you had healing and magic potions on you and Julien was able to get them down your throat. I thought I’d lost you,” his voice breaks. “I might still lose you,” he says, whispering. 

She lowers her voice. “I can’t treat them if I don’t know what’s wrong. And to be thorough I’d need to cast.” 

“They know the odds. We all do. Tell me what I can do until you’re well enough to treat them and I’ll do it.” 

Sitting by and watching, knowing she could help if she wasn’t exhausted is horrible already, and there’ll be another two days of this if she can’t convince him to let her begin treating them tomorrow. Sighing deeply, she responds, “healing potions. One every 12 hours, but no more than that. Can be harmful in large doses. Might be enough to keep them going until I can do what’s needed.” 

One of them dies overnight and she’s forced to listen as their breath rattles in their chest, knowing they’re breathing their last breaths. She cries, discreetly, wishing Vasco were here, but he’s on deck, trying to manage what must be a nearly impossible situation. So she gets up and holds his hand as he dies. 

The man with the broken leg - Myles, she thinks his name is, hobbles over and holds the hand of the other patient still living the next morning. A woman about her age. 

“I can at least set your leg,” she tells him. 

“No magic,” he says. 

“Did Vasco tell you to say that?” 

He gives her a wry smile. “Heard him parrot it to you enough. Don’t know the man well at all but he clearly loves you and I’ll not get on the bad side of a man who did what he did to save us. Fucking hero he is. You too.” 

“I won’t use my magic,” she promises. 

Luckily it’s not an especially bad break and she’s able to set it. Not that a minor break made the process any less painful; she gave Myles a piece of willow bark but it likely didn’t do much, considering how loudly he yelped as she set it. She splints and wraps it. 

“I can heal it more thoroughly once I’ve been told I’m allowed to use my magic again. Until then, keep all weight off it.” 

“She gonna make it?” He nods at the woman in the other cot. All of her injuries are internal; the severity of which she does not know, only that she’s been mostly unconscious since yesterday. 

“If she holds on until tomorrow I can see what can be done. I’m not optimistic.” 

“She saved me. Beast was getting ready to finish me off and she dove in front of me. Was sent flying.” 

“That was brave of her.” 

“Not brave. Foolish. Didn’t need to be both of us in here. My poor, foolish Sweetheart,” he says as he leans down to kiss her cheek. 

She hadn’t realized they were lovers. “Have you known her a long time?” 

“Two years. Loved her the moment I saw her. Her name is Claire.” 

“Talk to her. If she knows you’re with her it might help. I...can try to heal her a bit this afternoon. Fix the worst of the damage.”

Myles shakes his head. “No. Don’t put yourself at risk.” 

She looks at him incredulously. A person not pleading with her to save their partner is completely beyond her comprehension. He just looks at her sadly. “Vasco hasn’t told you, then?”

“What hasn’t he told me?” 

“We’re all dead anyway. Not enough of us alive to sail the ship to port.” 

She shakes her head vigorously. “No. That can’t be right.” 

“It is. Got seven crew left alive who are able-bodied. I’m eight, but useless until my leg is fixed. Claire is nine. Need a minimum of ten to sail this ship. Captain Tony is dead, so are all of the officers. Vasco’s stepped in to do what he can, but unless we can flag down a ship, we’re just waiting to die.”

It’s a large ship they’re on; far larger than the Sea Horse. 

“Vasco is a captain. He’ll think of something.” 

“Thought he was from the tattoos. Was odd that he was assigned to this ship. We’d all wondered what happened there.” He pauses, presumably expecting her to tell the story of why he isn’t a captain but when she doesn’t he continues. “No idea where we are. Far off course, probably, in our efforts to escape the kraken. Not on a major route.” 

“I need to go talk to him,” she stands up and rushes out of the infirmary. 

He’s at the helm. “Vasco!” She shouts and he starts and motions her over. 

“Is it true?” She demands. 

“Is what true?” He can’t look at her. 

“Don’t bullshit me. You know what I’m asking. Myles told me.” 

“It’s true.” He looks down at the deck, grief burned into his face and all of her anger evaporates. She moves closer and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hope’s not all gone. There are options.” 

“No good ones. We’re far off course, Tempest. Ship this size, we can’t sail properly with so few people. Unlikely any ship will find us, so our best option is to sail straight and hope we hit land before we run out of food and water.” 

“You have one more option.” 

He looks at her, exasperated. “And what would that be? Assuming Claire survives, which looks doubtful, we’d only have nine. I’m sure Myles told you we need ten. Minimum.” 

“You’d have ten if I go and patch up Claire. Just enough to keep her breathing until tomorrow. And if you teach me to sail.” 

Vasco shakes his head vigorously. “Admiral would have a fit if I revealed secrets to you. You’re not one of us. Not yet.”

“Make me one. I’ll go straight to the tattooist in Sérène. Teach me and we can limp to port. We don’t have to sit around waiting to die!” 

It’s remarkable, the change in her. Now she feels she has a purpose once more and does not want to die on this ship. She doesn’t want to damn the surviving passengers to a slow death by starvation. 

And she wants a life with the man she loves. To have that, she needs to be a Naut. 

“Do you truly want this?” 

“Of course I do! And even if I didn’t, I’d do it anyway to save the people on this ship. Tell me you’ll teach me Vasco. Please.” 

He looks torn but finally nods his head. “Just enough to keep her alive until tomorrow. Don’t push yourself, Tempest.” 

She throws her arms around his neck and gives him a kiss. “We’re going to make it. And you’ll need to give yourself another tattoo when we do.” 

Returning to the infirmary, she sits beside Claire, across from Myles who is lying on a cot next to her and holding her hand. “I’ll do more in the morning but I’m going to deal with the worst of it now,” she tells him. 

“Your lover know about this?” 

“She lives, Vasco teaches me to sail and we have ten. We’ll get to port. I’m sea born, anyway.”

“What?!” Myles sputters. 

“It’s a long story.” She concentrates, examining the woman lying in front of her. Her injuries are similar to the ones she suffered fighting the corrupted _nadaig_ \- internal bleeding, lacerations and cracked ribs. But she can handle the worst of it, ensuring she’ll live until the morning when she will have the energy to do more for her. 

She’s dizzy when she finishes and slumps forward in her chair, resting her head between her knees.

“You good?” Myles asks her. 

“Will be in a few minutes.” 

“Thank you.”

“She’s not completely out of danger yet. But she’s in better shape than she was.” 

Vasco enters the infirmary after dark with a coil of rope, pen, inkwell and a notebook. She looks up at him in confusion. 

“Time is tight, so your lessons start this evening if you’re feeling up for it.” 

“Show me all I need to know.” 

Vasco spends hours walking her through the basics; what each sail is used for, what knots to use, and what he envisions her needing to do to get them to Sérène. 

It’s easy to tell that he’s exhausted, having spent the whole day on deck, and now he’s teaching her late into the night. Eventually, his voice grows hoarse and she stops him. “You need to get some sleep.” 

“There’s still things I should run through before tomorrow.” 

“No, you need rest. You’ll be up in four hours anyway and we need you alive and well. It’s at least two months until we make it to Sérène and you need to pace yourself.” 

Luckily he listens to her and sets everything aside. “We’ll pick it up again tomorrow then. But for now, I’d very much like to sleep next to you.” 

She lies down, and he does as well, and they hold each other; uncaring that the metal frame of the two cots is digging into their hips as they sleep in one another’s arms. 

Claire’s eyes snap open and she looks up at her. “Thought I was a goner,” she says. 

“Had one more miracle in me. You’ll live but you need to take it easy for awhile. You, Myles and I are on lighter duties until the two of you have recovered and I’m a more competent sailor.” 

Myles is sitting on the other side of her and a tear rolls down his cheek. “You shouldn’t have done that, Sweetheart,” he says. 

Claire smiles at him. “Wasn’t your choice.” 

She finishes all she can do right now and brings a bowl of broth over to Claire. “You need to eat. Myles, would you be able to help her? Thought I’d go and see if Vasco needs a hand.” 

Really, she just wants to ensure they have some privacy. Myles takes the bowl and she leaves without another word. 

It takes her awhile to find Vasco, who is running all over the place, giving orders to the remaining crew. She waits until he slows. “Thought I’d make myself useful to you if I can.” 

“I’ll have you work with Julien. Just made arrangements for one of the passengers to work in the kitchen so we’ll actually have hot food for the rest of the voyage.” 

The cook had been on deck when the attack happened and was one of the first casualties, apparently. 

“Your lover made you one of us, did he? Never thought I’d be training a noble,” Julien says as they work. 

She likes Julien. He’s friendly and a patient teacher. Has a bit of a crush on Vasco too, judging by the way he was looking him over earlier in the voyage. Not something that bothers her in the least; she’s never felt jealous or threatened by it and Julien quit staring quite so obviously as soon as he realized they were a couple. 

“I’m not a noble, really. I was born to a kidnapped Native woman on a Naut ship. Adrien d’Orsay kidnapped me for his own political machinations.” 

“Shit. So you’re one of us by birth, then?”

“I am.” 

“That why you fell for a Naut?” 

“No, I had no idea when we first fell in love. We reunited a year after I landed on Tír Fradí, after I’d decided I was done with my life amongst the nobility.” 

“Was lucky for us you found one another again. Ship would have sunk without you.” 

***

“I knew you did something with the stars,” she says as Vasco shows her the sextant and runs over how to navigate by the stars. 

“Oh? From our lessons?” 

“I had to break into a Naut warehouse to dispel the ridiculous notions held by the Ordo Luminis extremists. Saw a sextant and a few other instruments. Like the thing over there,” she points at an odd thermometer. 

“Barometer. Used to predict the weather.” 

“I hated doing it, Vasco. It wasn’t right that I had to do it. But I went in alone; wouldn’t even let Kurt go in with me and I promise I didn’t tell anyone what I saw.” 

“I trust you, Elizabet.” 

“Nauts change their names when they join, right?” 

“Sea given receive new names. As a sea born, technically you wouldn’t but given the unusual circumstances you’ll probably be asked to choose a new name.” 

She doesn’t feel like the same person she was a year ago. A new life means it’s time for a new name. Or an old name, as it were. 

“Alys. Can you call me Alys? I’m a Naut now, even if I don’t have the tattoo yet.” 

“Of course I can, Alys.” He smiles as he tests her name out. It makes her happy that he’s the second to call her by that name after her mum. “May I ask how you chose the name?” 

“It was what Mum named me before Adrien stole me.” 

“Alys suits you. Your mum named you well.” 

“I never thought I could miss someone I only knew as an infant. But I’ve missed her terribly every day since I learned of her. I wish I could have known her.” 

“What that man did to you was cruel and I’m sorry you endured so much pain at his hands.”

***

Myles and Claire return to work a week later. Under any other circumstances Alys would have had them rest for awhile longer but things are dire and they need all the help they can get. 

This isn’t the way she wanted to learn how to sail, but it’s certainly effective. She’s picked it up quickly and Vasco trusts her to do some of the simpler tasks unsupervised. 

“Captain! Just checked and we’re back on course,” Myles hollers to Vasco, who is at the helm. 

“Thank you! And I’m not the captain!” Vasco says in response. 

He refuses to allow the other crew to call him ‘Captain’ even if it’s plainly obvious that’s what he is now. Whatever Admiral Cabral said to him is something he’s taken to heart and so he refuses to elevate himself above the others. 

“So is your lover just humble or is there something else going on?” Claire asks her during a rare quiet moment. 

“He has his reasons and it’s not for me to say anything more.” 

“Strange man. Heroic and brilliant, but strange. Rest of the crew thought he was some sort of criminal. Someone caught smuggling, perhaps. But I don’t think that’s the case, is it? No offence meant, Alys. He’s very handsome.” 

Alys chuckles. “Definitely not a criminal. If anyone is to be offended it’d be Vasco. Though I’m sure it’d be good on his ego to know someone else finds him attractive.” 

Julien teaches her to fish one afternoon. “We’re low on food. Need to catch what we can,” he tells her. 

Even in the woods of Tír Fradí she never went truly hungry. But now, as food runs low and rationing has become strict, she has. She insists that those doing the more physical tasks - Vasco and Julien in particular, need to eat more to keep their strength up. 

While they need all ten crew members to make it to Sérène, she doesn’t have to be at her best to do so. Vasco does. 

Water is another concern. Her and Myles drag empty barrels onto the deck as soon as it starts to rain. Vasco puts her in charge of rationing liquids in addition to food. “You’re a doctor. You know how much water we all need to stay alive,” he says. 

It’s a grim responsibility, keeping such a tight hold on food and water. The passengers are unhappy; many argue with her. Driven by fear as much as discomfort. One man pulls a pistol on her, forcing her to cast a shield on herself. Doesn’t fire it - lucky for him because Vasco was nearby and probably would have killed him. 

He locks the man in the brig. “Don’t tolerate people threatening my crew,” he says. 

‘My crew.’ It makes Alys happy to hear him say that. That he’s seemingly started to accept his new role on the ship. And that she’s a part of the crew, even if she doesn’t have her tattoo yet. Vasco stands taller now. More confident, despite the circumstances. 

After several weeks of arguing with him (“You need a more comfortable bed because we need you rested!”) Vasco finally agrees to take Captain Tony’s quarters. It’s a relief, to sleep in a proper bed instead of two cots pulled together. Not that either of them have the energy to enjoy the privacy. By an unspoken agreement, neither of them has initiated intimacy since the attack. There’ll be plenty of time for that once they’ve made it to Sérène. 

Eventually Vasco stops taking his shirt off when they sleep. An odd thing. She asks him about it. “Just cold at night is all. Don’t worry,” he tells her. He’s not being entirely truthful but she lacks the energy to question it further. 

They make it. A month late, limping to port on a ship beaten and battered by a kraken and a skeleton crew of desperately hungry sailors alongside frightened passengers, but they make it. 

The admiral looks positively horrified when he greets Vasco. “What the fuck happened?” 

“Kraken. Just barely escaped with our lives thanks to Alys here,” he clasps his hand on her shoulder. “Most of the crew perished. Nine of us lived and Alys has returned home to us and needs her tattoo.” 

“Returned home?” 

“I am the sea born child Adrien d’Orsay kidnapped.” 

The admiral’s eyes go wide. “Never thought I’d see the day. Was the admiral’s assistant at the time and I was there when d’Orsay took you. Walked right on board and grabbed you out of your mother’s arms as she screamed and cried in _Yecht Fradí_. Never seen the admiral so angry in my life.”

“Adrien is very good at taking what he wants,” she says bitterly. 

“Admiral made him pay dearly for what he did. Lots of Congregation children were exchanged for you and leadership on our island sold the location of Tír Fradí to Thélème and the Alliance.” 

She sees Vasco shift uncomfortably at that. 

“We are glad to have you home, Alys. Vasco, was it? You willing to debrief me on what happened?” 

He nods at the admiral. “We’ll go to the tattooist once I’m finished, Tempest.” 

Myles hands her a bowl of stew and she accepts it gratefully and doubts she’s ever eaten anything as delicious in her life. For the first time in weeks she has a full belly and she’s not dizzy from hunger. 

“We’ll be stuck here for a bit,” Vasco says when he returns. “Ship needs repairs before leaving. And most of a new crew.” 

“How long?” 

“At least six weeks. The admiral named me captain. Said he’d send word to Admiral Cabral of my heroism on the ship departing for New Sérène in the morning.” 

“Surely she will forgive you once she hears.”

“Perhaps.” He looks unsure about it. 

She gets two tattoos that day: one marking her as sea born and one commemorating their survival. Vasco holds her hand through it. 

“You’re enduring better than many do when they get their first done,” he says. 

“I was beaten up enough on Tír Fradí to make this near painless in comparison.” 

“You won’t be saying that when it comes time for you to tattoo your ribs. It’s not pleasant.” 

“That the most painful spot?” 

“Most painful I’ve found anyway. The ones on my ribs took the better part of a day to do.” 

She hardly recognizes the woman looking back at her in the mirror. Tattooed and near gaunt from weeks of heavy exertion with little food. 

That night, in the cabin the admiral leads them to, Vasco takes off his shirt and her stomach churns as she notices how easily she can count his ribs. 

“That’s why you stopped taking your shirt off when we slept,” she says as she splays a hand on his chest. 

“I didn’t want you to worry or eat less than you already were. It was always going to be tough on us. We lived and I’ll put the weight back on during our leave.” 

“You’ve eaten?” 

“The admiral had someone pick us up dinner from the tavern. He knew I was hungry.” 

He tattoos another line on his right index finger. “I feel as if I’ve cursed you. Three times in six months?” 

“It’s the way it goes. Our lives are dangerous ones. We’re due for a bit of good luck I’d say.” 

The next morning as she sees a platoon of Congregation soldiers march down the street near the port she’s reminded that the world is about to get even more dangerous. That there will be a war and people will die because she refused to keep Constantin’s murder to herself. 

“Are Naut ships targeted in wars between the nations?” 

“They’re not supposed to be. We’re neutral; the conflicts of the nations mean nothing to us. Occasionally we’re paid to transport soldiers, but that’s a service offered to any nation willing to pay for it. But sometimes they are if enemy soldiers are noticed on one of our ships. If any of our brothers or sisters die or if a ship is damaged, the consequences could be dire for the nation who attacked our ship.” 

“What sort of consequences?” 

“We may refuse to offer our services until reparations are made. Details of the treaties are well above my rank. The admirals are responsible for those negotiations.” 

“The Nauts did that to the Congregation when Adrien stole me,” she says. 

“Yes.” Vasco looks uncomfortable once again and she realizes why and her hands start to shake. 

“My life was meant to be yours, wasn’t it? We’re the same age,” she says softly, horrified by what she’s taken from the man she loves and several other children born to Congregation families. 

He only nods his head, overwhelmed with emotion. 

A tear falls down her cheek. “Love I’m so sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.” 

“It wasn’t your fault,” his voice breaks. 

“Is...there anything I can do? Whatever I have belongs to the both of us now, you know that. If you wanted to settle somewhere...” 

It’s clumsy and awkward but she wants to offer him the life he should have had in a small way, at least. 

He shakes his head vigorously. “I’ve no interest in your money. I just want to know who I am.” 

“Just say the word. I have the address.” 

Vasco doesn’t respond. 

He’s distant from her. Not just today, but in the days that follow. It hurts but she understands and respects his need for space. It’s a terrible thing that they’ve discovered and he needs to work through it. And so she does her best to keep busy; wandering the port, reading books and making potions. 

She cries occasionally - only when he’s not around. Her anxiety is terrible and she’s scared but she refuses to place that burden on him. Not when he’s hurting so badly. Once the tears dry, she reminds herself of what they’ve been through to be together. That they’ve chosen a life together, even when it’s hard and even when it hurts. 

But part of her wonders sometimes if the bitterness and resentment could be too much. To live with the person who had the life he was meant to have? Not an easy thing, especially when he’s still struggling so much with who he is. 

Then, a switch flips and he enters the cabin, sits next to her on the couch and clings to her so tightly it almost hurts. 

“I love you, Tempest,” he whispers into her chest. 

“I love you too,” she says, relief coursing through her and her anxiety easing. 

He recites a poem. One he’d never shared with her and she finally understands the origin and meaning of the pet name he uses so lovingly for her. 

“I know you’re struggling with who you are, Vasco, but I know. You’re my _minundhanem_. You’re the smartest man I know, refuse to put up with people’s bullshit; you’re a brilliant leader, and you have a kind heart. You love poetry, good whiskey and fancy tea. And I’ll be here with you until the day we die.”

“What does ‘ _minundhanem_ ’ mean?” 

“Soulmate.” 

He lifts his head off her chest and looks her in the eye. “Our lives were tied together from the moment we were born,” he says with wonder. 

“Yes, I suppose they were.” 

“I...think I like that. That we were fated to find one another when the time was right. That we found one another again after a year apart, because life has tied a red string connecting me to you, ensuring we’d always be together, even when life kept us far apart.”

“Red string?”

“A story a woman told me at a Bridge Alliance port once. That a red string connects you to your soulmate.” 

“I like that idea. We’ll never be far apart again so our string no longer has to stretch across entire seas.” 

“No, Tempest. We’ll never be parted again.”


	7. Processing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco takes the time to process what they’ve discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

He doesn’t know why it took him so long to realize that her life was once meant to be his. She told him that she is the sea born daughter of a kidnapped islander and his file told him he was given ‘For goods transported and delivered at the request of His Highness, Prince d’Orsay’. 

Perhaps it was denial. He didn’t want to consider that the woman he loves is the reason he’s a Naut. 

It’s a crushing revelation. One made worse when he sees the guilt Alys feels. It’s not her fault. He knows that, rationally. But he’s afraid he’ll lash out in bitterness and she doesn’t deserve that. And so he keeps his distance. It’s not a good solution, but it’s for the best. For now. 

He cooks her breakfast the next morning but grabs a plate and leaves. Alys looks confused and a little hurt but doesn’t protest. Sitting on a bench near the sea, he eats and thinks about his life. There’s been plenty of good moments and he does enjoy what he does. But it wasn’t what he chose. He was never given a choice and that’s what’s bothering him most right now. 

But then again, Alys wasn’t either. She grew up in privilege, yes, but had to endure an abusive uncle. A difficult life at court. She was made a political pawn against her will. And she was separated from her true families. 

When he returns to the cabin that night she’s reading on the couch. He sits down and opens a book of his own, his stomach twisting with anxiety and fear that he will say something that hurts her. She gives him a smile but keeps her distance - physically and emotionally. Not out of anger he notices, but out of respect. They’re still learning about each other - when to give distance and when to console. That she’s not pushing him is something he appreciates. 

He’s not ready to talk the next day. The hurt on her face tears at him, but still she doesn’t push. As he walks through Sérène he ends up in the area of the city where most of the nobles live. A woman hugs a little boy on the front porch of a house and his stomach twists unpleasantly. He could meet his mother and father but will they greet him with such affection? Or will he be nothing more than a curiosity? 

The malichor is prevalent in Sérène. Bodies of the dead and the dying are present on most streets. Alys’ efforts to find the solution to it have not yet made an impact. But with the impending war, will there be a chance to repair the land? Or will death beget more death by plague? 

It’s late when he returns to the cabin after spending the day walking around the city. Alys is asleep so he soaks his aching and blistered feet before slipping into bed behind her. Tonight, he wraps an arm around her and holds her as they sleep. 

In the morning he volunteers to help load a ship. Not something he needs to do but manual labour is a good way to take one’s mind off things. He tells Alys where he’s going today and she nods, giving him a kiss before he leaves. 

As he’s working he realizes he hasn’t checked in with her once these last few days. That she has nightmares about their hellish voyage, the same as him. Her anxiety must be terrible. But she hasn’t once expressed frustration with him. 

He’s been so swept up in what he lost when her uncle stole her that he hasn’t considered what he gained. As he lifts boxes onto the ship, sweat beading down his face he realizes he’s been looking at it the wrong way. No, he’s never worn silk, slept in a fancy bed or been waited on by servants. But he’s never had to endure an arranged marriage to serve his family. Dealt with the vipers at court. Been pressured to be someone he doesn’t want to be. 

Instead he’s working a job he’s damn good at, in a guild that promotes on merit and not by name. His home is the sea. He has the freedom to love who he chooses. And he has the love of a woman who gave up a life of luxury to be with him. Who saved the lives of everyone on the Plover when she stunned the kraken and again when she volunteered to take up her birthright. It wasn’t what he chose but it’s been decent. Life could be a lot worse. 

He can learn who he was meant to be. Alys has their address. In the coming days he will ask if they can go to meet his parents. So he can understand where he came from. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll want to get to know him. To have some sort of relationship with him. 

But for now, he needs to show his partner the love she deserves from him. Once the ship is loaded he washes up before returning to their cabin. It’s early evening, the sky is a soft orange and the breeze is pleasant. 

Alys is sitting on the couch reading. Her eyes are red and puffy as if she had recently been crying and his heart sinks. By trying to protect her from his bitterness he’s hurt her with his distance. 

The only thing he can think to do is rush over to her and hold her. So he does, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her chest. She hesitates - only briefly, before putting her book down and wrapping her own arms around him. 

He’s never recited the poem that makes him think of her. Of their love. Long overdue - not just months but over a year, he recites it. It’s one she knows; she speaks the last lines with him as she runs her fingers through his hair, a soft smile on her face. 

Alys kisses him on the forehead and speaks. “I know you’re struggling with who you are, Vasco, but I know. You’re my _minundhanem_. You’re the smartest man I know; you love poetry, whiskey and fancy tea. I’ll be here with you until the day we die.”

He’s never heard the word ‘ _minundhanem_ ’ before. “What does ‘ _minundhanem_ ’ mean?” 

“Soulmate.” 

He’s always believed in fate. In destiny. He was meant to be a Naut, just as she was meant to live the life she has. Born a Naut, growing up a noble before choosing to be an islander and a Naut. They were meant to find each other. To love each other. When he was born and given to the Nauts in exchange for her, it tied their fates together and made them soulmates. “Our lives were tied together from the moment we were born,” he says with wonder. 

“Yes, I suppose they were.” 

“I...think I like that. That we were fated to find one another when the time was right. That we found one another again after a year apart, because life has tied a red string connecting me to you, ensuring we’d always be together, even when life kept us far apart.”

His heart was hers years before they’d met and he’s only realizing this now. 

“Red string?”

“A story a woman told me at a Bridge Alliance port once. That a red string connects you to your soulmate.” He’s always been a bit of a romantic. Very secretly; before her he’d never had someone he could be properly romantic with. Who appreciates romantic poetry. Who would accept his rambling about fate and soulmates.

“I like that idea. We’ll never be far apart again so our string no longer has to stretch across entire seas.” 

“No, Tempest. We’ll never be parted again.” 

He kisses her, a soft, lingering kiss. The sort of kiss she deserves every single day because she is good and she is kind and she is the best person he knows. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant,” he says. 

“I understood. It was a... very painful thing to discover. And I’m sorry for what Adrien did to you.” 

“You need not apologize for the crimes of that man.” He gives her another kiss. “I’d prefer to move on to better things. To loving you the way you deserve, if you’ll have me.” 

She doesn’t speak; he suspects he’s made her emotional. Instead she nods her head and he stands up and takes her into his arms, carrying her to bed. 

“Take your time with me,” Alys says when he places her on the bed. 

And so he does, slowly undressing her before removing his own clothes and kissing down her beautiful body before settling between her legs. “Eyes on me when you come, Tempest,” he kisses her slit, “I want to watch it overtake you.” 

He slides his tongue through her folds, her breath hitching and her fingers tightening their hold on his hair. His pace is unrelentingly slow, bringing her close to her climax before backing off, determined to draw her pleasure out. As promised, her eyes are on him, watching as he licks her cunt, her pupils blown with arousal. She doesn’t beg for release, not tonight. Instead her thighs tighten around his head, her hand holds his head in place with more force than he’s ever seen in her, making his cock ache. 

Who is he to deny her when she’s made her desire so clear? His eyes never leave hers as he doubles down on his efforts, licking her clit rhythmically as he slides two fingers into her. Her body stiffens and her breath hitches and when she comes, crying out his name the pleasure on her face is so beautiful. 

The grip she has on his head softens, her fingers running through his hair. “Your turn. How do you want me?” 

He doesn’t answer, but adjusts so he is on top of her. She understands. “Will you look at me too?” 

“I will,” he says as he thrusts into her. Cupping his face, she pulls him into a kiss, meeting his thrusts, her fingers digging into his back. But she wants to see him come so when he feels the familiar tightening in his balls he pulls away and looks at her. He buries himself to the hilt and comes, keeping his eyes locked on her as he spills himself inside her. 

“That was wonderful, Vasco,” she says softly as he’s panting above her. 

He’s heard that some people cry after making love. It was never something he understood. Never something he thought he’d experience. But as they hold each other and he knows for certain that they’re tied together for life, tears spill down his cheeks, landing on her shoulder. Alys pulls back, her own eyes wet with tears and kisses him. 

“We make quite a pair,” he says lightly, his voice still thick with tears. 

“We do. I’d share my life with no one else.” 

They hold each other more tightly, and he feels them both start to drift off when he has a realization. “Don’t tell the crew that I’m soft,” he says. 

Alys giggles. “I won’t but I’m afraid it won’t remain a secret for long. It’s not difficult to see if one is paying attention. Besides, I love that about you. That underneath the gruff, blunt, smart-ass exterior, you’re romantic and emotional. That you love me so thoroughly and so passionately.”


	8. Tea in the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco finds his family.

Vasco is fidgeting nervously at breakfast. They have another two weeks left of leave before making quick stops in a few other cities and returning to New Sérène. He’s met most of the new crew members and is cautiously optimistic about how everyone will work together. 

"Might we go for a walk today, Tempest?"

He's too nervous to simply be asking to go for a walk. Alys has her suspicions, but does not want to push.

"That's a lovely idea. Is there anywhere in particular you would like to go?" 

"Do...you think we could see where the d’Arcy family lives? 

She walks over to her bag and looks up the address. “I know where they live and we can walk over."

It's not a terribly far walk; most of the nobility live in the same area of the city, and the d'Arcy family is no different. The two of them approach the house; more modest than several of the homes on the street, but opulent by anyone's standards, and with a full flower garden in the front. 

"Here we are." Vasco looks astonished as he stares at the house from across the street. "I could have grown up here."

"How are you feeling?"

"It is...interesting to see where they live. What could have been, were things different."

The door opens and a woman steps out and into the garden. She sits on a bench and opens up a book.

Her hair is the same colour as Vasco's, though heavily streaked with grey, and her face bears such a striking resemblance to him that there's no question who she is. Vasco sees it too and grips Alys’ arm. 

"Would you like to say hello?" 

He hesitates but finally nods. They’re both dressed like Nauts and Alys is wearing her hair down; an attempt to hide her mark as much as possible. Though, likely no longer necessary given the tattoos on her face. Nobody would expect Adrien’s niece to become a Naut.

They walk over and the woman - Lady d’Arcy looks up at them, an expression of mild curiosity on her face. “May I help you?” 

“Hello, my lady,” Vasco says nervously and takes off his hat, providing a better view of his face. 

The woman looks at him intensely and a flurry of expressions dance over her face before she remembers herself and settles into an expression of mild interest. 

“Hello - Sir...” 

“Vasco. Captain Vasco,” he extends his hand and Lady d’Arcy shakes it. He gestures to her, “this is my partner, Alys.”

“Lucille d’Arcy,” the woman says in response.

“It...is good to meet you.” 

It’s awkward, and the three of them remain in an almost painful silence until Lady d’Arcy speaks once more. “Have you been a captain for long? That is a prestigious position to hold, especially for a man as young as you are."

"I was 23 when I received the appointment. The youngest Naut in history," Vasco speaks shyly, as if reluctant to brag about his accomplishments.

"A remarkable achievement, Captain."

"Vasco, please."

"Would the two of you like to stay and chat? I can have the servant bring us some tea." The question is aimed directly at Vasco; she is pleased to find she is mostly being ignored. 

"We have some time, don't we?"

"We do."

They sit across from Lady d'Arcy and a servant comes out shortly with a pot of tea and serves them. The familiar smell of cinnamon hits her nose as she lifts the cup to her lips and she smiles.

"It's imported from the Bridge Alliance. I can hardly stand to drink anything else," Lady d'Arcy, who has noticed her reaction, explains.

"You have excellent taste, my lady," Vasco says as he takes a sip. 

"Lucille." she says urgently, as if the thought of the man in front of her calling her by her title is painful. 

"How did you two meet, Vasco?"

They can’t quite tell the whole truth; the knowledge that she was once nobility cannot he revealed. 

"Our paths crossed on a voyage and we fell in love. But life separated us for a year, though we found each other, and promised we would not be separated again,” he says. 

“You are both Nauts, then?”

“Yes,” Vasco says. The woman in front of them wouldn’t notice that her tattoos are still fresh - indicative that she joined the life only recently. 

"Were you happy? Did you have a nice childhood?" she asks urgently.

"I have many fond memories from my childhood. The first time I climbed the shrouds, for instance. It was complete freedom and I cannot begin to describe the view from that high up."

He doesn't mention the bitterness he experienced as a child and the bitterness he struggles with now, likely to preserve her feelings. The woman across from them is a woman wracked with guilt over being forced to give away her child. Easing her guilt is a great kindness. 

The three of them talk for hours, mostly about Vasco. Periodically Lady d'Arcy remembers the need to maintain appearances and asks her a question, and she wishes she could tell her not to worry about her. But Vasco hasn't revealed who he is. They all know, but both him and Lady d'Arcy prefer not to put it in words and so she respects that and answers her half-hearted questions politely. 

At one point she mentions her husband has just recently returned from business in Thélème.

"Is he away frequently?" Vasco asks.

"Yes. Our - son," she hesitates a little in mentioning her son, "went along with him growing up. To learn the business. He...died a year ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Lucille,” Vasco says. Alys echos the sentiment. 

“It was a shocking thing. His father had wanted him to go to that damned island. I’d begged him not to. And now I am a mother with no children.” 

Vasco winces as she says this but if Lady d’Arcy notices she doesn’t react. 

“Would your husband be around to say hello?”

The woman shakes her head. “It would be best not to.” 

She can read between the lines and discern the message in the woman’s words and so can Vasco, from the expression on his face. She takes his hand and squeezes it. 

“We’ve kept you all afternoon, Lucille; I apologize for the intrusion,” he says. On the surface he sounds calm, but she knows him enough by now to hear the hurt in his voice. 

"This was...nice. It was a good way to spend the day," Lucille says before pausing. “It...would be best we leave it here. While it was good to meet you, you must understand we are from separate worlds.” 

She feels Vasco stiffen next to her and he cannot hide the look of rejection on his face. 

Lucille continues, unfazed, “This may be unusual, but can I give you two a hug?” 

Alys nods; not knowing what else to do and opens her arms. She gives her a brief hug before turning to Vasco who hesitates for a moment before he opens his arms without speaking. He holds her tightly and she rests her chin on his shoulder. It's a long hug, far longer than would be appropriate under normal circumstances. 

"It was good to meet you, Lucille,” Vasco says to her, voice wavering slightly. 

"And you, Vasco. I was very happy to hear about your life, and that you have found a partner who makes you happy." After another lingering glance, she turns to go inside, leaving Alys and Vasco outside. 

Vasco walks away quickly, and Alys has to jog to keep up with him. When she does catch up to him, she sees that his eyes are damp. Knowing better than to ask him now, she simply takes his hand and holds it as they make their way back to the port. 

They stand at the edge of the dock, looking out at the ocean and he speaks. "That was enough. To have met the woman who gave birth to me."

She notices that he does not refer to her as his mother. 

"You gave her comfort, to tell her about your life. And you finally know where your fondness for fancy tea comes from," she says as she leans in to kiss him on the cheek. 

“I was stupid. To have spent so many years angry over the life I could have had. But I know who I am now. I’m a Naut, and a proud one at that.” 

She’s never seen this sort of self-assuredness in him before. 

“No more regrets?” 

Vasco shakes his head. “I don't regret the life I've lived anymore. She might regret losing me, but it's been a good life and I'm happy with who I am. And when she had the chance to get to know me and build a relationship with me, she rejected me out of a sense of propriety.” He pauses for a moment, “I’m certainly glad not to be called Leandre d’Arcy,” he says, snorting a little as he chuckles to himself. 

“I’m sorry this was disappointing for you, but I’m glad it allowed you to sweep your regrets away and assert yourself.”

“I’d naively thought she’d want to know me. But all I was is a curiosity; a chance to assuage her guilt. I shouldn’t be surprised; we’re seen as a necessary evil by the nobility. Once they handed me off I was no longer her son. I’m just an anonymous Naut who happens to look like her. Your aunt has been more a mother to me in the short time I’ve known her than Lady d’Arcy is. I know who my family is now.”

“She’s a fool for rejecting you.” 

Vasco shakes his head. “I should have anticipated it. She’s not wrong; we’re from separate worlds.”

“But so were we and we’re together.” 

“Yes, but you’re intelligent and kind. Open-minded. And from what you’ve told me, you fit in with them no better than I would... when we get back to New Sérène I’d like to ask Admiral Cabral for a loyalty mission. Prove to her that I’m fully committed to being a Naut. Would you help me?” 

“Of course I would, Love.”

“I hope you’ll be happy with me at sea.”

For the first time in a very long time she feels truly happy; free of the anxiety that has plagued her for her entire life. “I’ll be very happy. And when we’re on leave we can go to Vignamri and visit _Modryb_ Slàn. Would... you consider retiring to Vignamri once we’re ready to do so?” 

“I had only assumed we would, Alys. Vignamri is your home, just as much as the sea is.” 

“It’s your home too now. You’re my partner, after all.” 

Vasco smiles at that. “Never thought I’d find a home in a village on Tír Fradí. Had hardly ever felt grass under my feet before we walked there together for the first time.” 

He’s lighter in the days that follow. The heaviness she’s seen in him since the day they met has lifted. His regrets gone, he’s fully accepted and embraced who he is and Alys couldn’t be happier for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote the majority of this months ago for ‘Diamonds in the Sky’ and ultimately cut it; deciding it wouldn’t really fit for Vasco to seek out the rest of his family after meeting Bastien and making peace with his life. But it works in this AU: he needed to find his family in order to accept the life and family he has.


	9. Paranoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not every member of the new crew trusts Alys.

The voyage back to New Sérène remains quiet thus far. It’s a bit of work getting used to a new dynamic; the survivors of the last voyage near hero-worshipping Vasco and her, while the new crew members, the ones who didn’t face a giant sea monster, death and starvation don’t really see what the big deal is. 

“Why you trust a freshly tattooed Naut with a noble accent?” She overhears one man ask Claire. 

“Because she’s a damn good woman and an even better doctor,” she says firmly in response. 

The man looks doubtful. “Know a spy when I see one,” he mutters as he walks past her. 

Claire, who had expressed interest in learning how to heal, is now her first apprentice. She’s a good student, picking up skills quickly and reading Alys’ old medical textbooks with the same zeal she once did. 

Vasco’s uncomfortable with being put on a pedestal. “I did what needed to be done. We survived but lost so many. I’m not worth celebrating,” he says to her one night as they stand together looking at the sky. 

“That we made it to port at all is a miracle. You stood up and took charge of the situation.”

“I did my job is all.” 

“Love, few people would have done what you did. You don’t have to be comfortable with it, but accept that the people on that voyage are going to think highly of you.” 

“They’re good people. Hard workers. Assuming I’m given command of the Sea Horse again it will be a shame not to work with them again.” 

The nightmares are bad. While making their way to Sérène they were so busy trying to survive that when they collapsed into bed their sleep was dreamless. But now, weeks after the fact, they’re horrible. 

“We’re still here,” Vasco says to her after catching her as she’s about to fall out of bed. He pulls her close. “It didn’t kill us and I won’t let that happen to us ever again.” She clings to him, her fingers leaving impressions in his skin and he holds her just as tightly. 

In her worst nightmares it’s Vasco who was killed by the beast and not Captain Tony. The dull thud of her partner’s body hitting the deck haunts her even when she awakens from the horror to the sound of his quiet breathing.

He’s cautious. Confident but not arrogant. She knows he’d never sail into the territory of a kraken the way Captain Tony did. 

It drives her crazy that she’ll never know what he was thinking. “He wasn’t, Tempest. Just an arrogant man wanting to shave a few days off his journey so he can spend extra time at the tavern,” Vasco tells her. 

Red rimmed eyes and dark circles tell her when he’s had nightmares. She asks him about them; offers to give him the comfort he gives her but he declines. But she was there and survived alongside him so the horrors aren’t a mystery to her. And so she holds him, wordlessly offering the comfort she can, as their chests touch, legs lock and her heart beats against his. 

***

Alys doesn’t know the crew member who enters the infirmary. One of the new crew members, a man who looks to be in his early 40s. Heavily scarred arms tell her he’s seen a significant amount of combat. She can’t tell immediately what might be paining him. “What is going on? I’m Doctor Alys,” she says, extending her hand. 

He doesn’t take her hand. “Pedro.” 

Something about him makes her uneasy. He’s aloof, but strikes her as vaguely threatening. Still, she smiles at him. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“Very.” He looks her up and down, sizing her up. Something isn’t right. Trying her best to remain calm, she walks over to her desk, opens a drawer and slides her rings onto her fingers. 

“What ails you?” 

“Paranoia. You see, my lady, the guild I was born into has accepted a noble into its ranks. Not your typical youngest-born noble desperate to find a vocation, but the heir apparent to a throne.”

She readies a stasis spell in her hands, which are hidden behind her back. “I was sea born, just like you,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady. 

“I’m sure you managed to convince the admiral of that fact. But no, I think you’re a spy. A woman sent to find out all our secrets. Why should the Congregation pay the Nauts if they can learn the secrets of the sea for themselves?” 

Pedro steps towards her and Alys takes a step back. “Sir, come no closer. I will treat any injuries you may have but I must insist that my partner act as an observer.” She speaks firmly but is unable to completely mask the fear in her voice. 

“No, I don’t think he will be. A foolish captain, to let a pretty face sway him from his duty,” Pedro sounds openly menacing now and Alys readies herself to run for the door, fully aware of how catastrophic the damage could be if she casts a spell on the ship and misses her target. 

She pivots, making a break for the door but he’s quicker, tackling her to the ground. Something sharp jabs her in the side and instinctively she casts the stasis spell she’d prepared. Pedro stiffens on top of her, a dead weight and she pushes him off with great difficulty before running as quickly as she can. “Vasco!” She shouts desperately. Myles sees her, his eyes widen and he takes off in a run. 

Vasco appears moments later looking terrified. “Alys, what happened?” He demands frantically as he moves his hand to the side, where Pedro poked her. Searing pain overwhelms her as his hand puts pressure on her and her legs buckle. Vasco catches her and helps her to the deck. “Who did this to you?” 

Alys looks down to see a large blood stain expanding rapidly on her shirt and a knife sticking out of her flank. “That’s not good,” she says, feeling dizzy. 

“Claire!” Vasco shouts. “Alys, tell me who it was. Talk to me, please!” 

“Pedro,” she mumbles. “Thinks I’m a spy.” 

Vasco turns to Julien, who has come to see what the commotion is all about. “Find Pedro and put him under arrest. I’ll talk to him once we’ve seen to Alys’ treatment.” Julien runs off without another word. 

She’s been stabbed before. Granted she was wearing some form of armour every other time so a blade has never gone this deep. 

“I need to know what to do. Please, tell me what you need,” Vasco says. 

Her mind is foggy, she’s so dizzy and it’s difficult to think. “Needs to be cleaned. Don’t take the knife out yet. Bleeding inside needs to be stopped first,” she mutters, her head rolling backwards because she lacks the energy to hold it up. 

Claire appears beside her. “Shit! Doctor Alys, can you walk me through this?” 

“Will do my best.” She’s getting sleepy. “Vasco, keep me awake.” 

He lifts her, as gently as he can but the movement jostles the knife and she yelps. “Sorry, Tempest,” he says as he makes his way to the infirmary with her. 

“Was there poison on the knife?” Claire asks from behind Vasco. 

A year spent fighting all manner of enemies means she’s been poisoned before. An unpleasant thing but luckily she was never hit by a fatal variety. Were it poisoned she’d be experiencing symptoms by now as the poison would have gone straight into her blood stream. “No poison.” 

“Some good fortune at least,” Vasco says as he sets her down on an operating table. Carefully he cuts away her shirt, his other hand keeping pressure around the knife embedded in her side. 

Claire offers her a pain relieving potion and she shakes her head. “Would make me too sleepy. Need to heal myself and then I’ll take it.” 

“There’s healing potions that can help. No need to suffer,” Claire argues. 

“Not to the same extent. Clean it, I’ll stop the bleeding, and then you can remove the knife. I’ll do what I can after that, take the potion and you’ll stitch it up, Claire.” 

“You’ve only been teaching me for two months!” Claire stammers. 

“Two months more training than Vasco’s received and he’s the next most talented healer. Get me some leather to bite down on, would you? Would rather not chew a hole through my cheek.” 

She’s calm. Eerily so. Perhaps a product of the blood loss, but while Claire and Vasco look near frantic, she’s rather at ease with the situation. Casting a spell, she sees that the internal damage isn’t severe. “Knife missed all the important parts,” she says as Claire returns with a leather strap. She takes it and puts it into her mouth and Vasco takes her hand. 

“I’m so sorry, Doctor Alys,” Claire says as she presses the alcohol-soaked cloth to her side. White hot pain follows and she grips Vasco’s hand as hard as she possibly can, mentally begging Claire to go as quickly as possible. 

“You’re going to be fine. I’m here,” Vasco says softly. He talks to her throughout and she’s glad to have even a small distraction. 

“Done,” Claire announces. “Can you heal yourself?” 

She spits out the strap. “Have some magic potions ready,” she responds. 

Focusing, she wills the severed blood vessels to heal. It’s slow work made slower by the fact that she’s doing it to herself and she’s fighting against her own blood loss, pain and dizziness. Once finished, she repairs the damaged nerves in the area. 

“Get the knife out,” she says to Claire. 

“Take the potion first,” Claire says firmly. 

“Got to heal what’s left once the knife is out. Can’t do that drugged,” she says. She’s so fucking tired as it is, her limbs heavy and her eyes feel as if there is sand in them. 

“Will there be any risk to your life if healing that damage waits until the morning?” 

“Don’t hit any major blood vessels and there won’t be.” 

“How do I do this?” She feels terribly for Claire, who is understandably panicked. Claire has only been in training for two months and is in way over her head. 

“Use a scalpel to widen the wound so the knife will come out cleanly. Put pressure around it with one hand, and pull it out as smoothly as you can. Keep pressure on the wound for five minutes, check to ensure there’s no more bleeding. I’ve stopped the bleeding so there shouldn’t be. Then close it.” 

“I am going to gut Pedro,” Claire says. 

“Get in line behind me,” Vasco says, sounding grim. 

“Don’t stab anyone in my behalf. This is unpleasant.” 

Claire hands her the potion and she takes it. “Give it fifteen minutes and by then I won’t give a shit what you do to me.” 

Vasco’s still holding her hand. He lifts it to his mouth and kisses it. “How long will you be out of commission?” 

“Depends on how much I can heal in the morning. Few weeks probably. Less time than if it had to heal naturally.” 

“I love you,” Vasco says. 

She’s getting sleepier. “Love you too, Vasco.” She turns to Claire. “You’ll do well,” she says before grogginess overtakes her. 

Vasco’s running his hand up and down her arm when she wakes up. She can’t see clearly, but recognizes his touch; the feel of his hands, the way he’s moving. 

“How are you feeling?” 

She looks down to try to see her flank but is covered by a blanket, and she wouldn’t have been able to see much anyway. “Knife is gone?” 

“Came out easy. Very little bleeding. Claire stitched you up. I sent her to get some rest. Are you feeling well? She left another potion with me if you need.” 

“I’m fine,” she says. Talking and thinking are difficult; it is as if her head is full of cotton. It’s a rather strange sensation. 

“Good,” his voice breaks and she hears a quiet sob. “I was so worried.” 

“Are we cursed?” The voyage to Sérène was a nightmare that nearly killed them both and now this happens. It feels as if the world is actively working against them. 

“No. Just a run of bad luck. Pedro’s in the brig. He won’t hurt you again.” 

A wave of exhaustion washes over her and she stifles a yawn. “Close your eyes. You need to rest.” 

The eery calm she felt earlier has dissipated and she feels anxiety creeping in. Fear that another crew member who doesn’t know or trust her will try to hurt her. “Stay with me?” 

“I’ll be here Alys. I promise.” 

As she sinks back into sleep, it occurs to her that as captain of the ship he probably has more pressing matters to deal with than sitting by her sick bed, but she’s too exhausted to say anything more. 

The potion has worn off the next time she wakes up and her side is aching. She concentrates, checking herself over before casting a healing spell. Not a powerful one; she’s far too tired for that. Vasco’s eyes flutter open. “Don’t push yourself,” he says, his voice groggy from sleep. 

“How’d you know?” 

“Could feel the magic in the air. I know what your healing feels like. How are you doing?” 

She stops the spell; nearly spent from the effort of healing herself. “Sore. Tired. But things are looking well enough. I’ll be fine.” 

“When Claire gets here I’ll step out to check on things. I’ll return once I’ve finished.” 

“Don’t neglect your duties on my account.” The anxiety she was feeling last night remains. 

He leans down and kisses her forehead. “Allow me to make that judgement call. The crew can do without me on deck all day while you’re here in the infirmary.” 

“Don’t let anyone hurt me?” She’s frightened. Many members of the crew are people she does not know well. If Pedro tried to kill her does that mean others wish to as well? 

“I won’t. I’ll make very clear that you are family and that anyone who threatens you deals with me.” 

Claire arrives, looks her over and changes her bandages before handing her another potion. “I’m sure you feel like shit,” she says. 

“I don’t feel great, at the very least.” She takes the potion, resolving herself to a day of feeling sleepy and completely out of sorts. 

She’s well enough the next day to do without the pain relieving potion, to her great relief. And well enough for visitors. Myles stops in and sits with her for awhile. As someone who isn’t in charge, he may have a better sense of how she’s perceived by the crew. 

“Has anyone else said anything about me?” 

Myles knows she’s not asking about well-wishers. “Pedro’s actions have been thoroughly condemned. Two crew members - Tim and Nora, have been awfully quiet. Heard whispers that they don’t trust you. Two weeks ago Tim was stupid enough to imply you’re not trustworthy and Julien roughed him up good.” 

“Thank you. I’ll stay out of their way.” 

“I’ll guard you, Allie. So will Julien. Claire. Everyone you saved will fight to the death to protect you. And your man’ll have words with anyone who so much as looks at you funny.”

At least nightmares about getting stabbed are different from nightmares about Constantin’s death, sea monsters and floating aimlessly on the open ocean, she thinks as she wakes up from another one. Vasco sleeps on the cot next to her, his hand holding hers; a gesture of comfort she focuses on to try to calm down. 

It’s a week before her and Claire deem her recovered enough to leave the infirmary. For at least another week she’ll rest in her and Vasco’s quarters. 

Vasco clings to her most nights now that she’s returned to their quarters. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he tells her as he rests his head on her chest. 

“I’m still here with you,” she says, trying to sound light and hoping it’s a comfort to him. 

“Have you questioned Pedro yet?” She asks him. 

Vasco just shakes his head, looking haunted and she knows not to ask him again. 

She sits on the deck with Julien. Vasco’s nearby at the helm and he’s looking over at them frequently, an expression of worry plastered on his face.

“Tim and Nora spent time with that piece of shit,” Julien refuses to even say Pedro’s name, only referring to him using a variety of insults, “haven’t gone as far as to express support for the slug but certainly aren’t condemning him. Told the captain. He’ll make sure you’re protected.” 

Alys nods. “Will it always be like this?” 

“Nauts are a protective folk. Adult volunteers are often looked at with suspicion. One who was a noble, even though you were sea born...” Julien trails off. 

“People think the worst of me.” 

“In time people will see that you’re good. That you save people. Until then I’ll hit anyone who looks at you with suspicion.” 

Still, something came to mind last night as she was lying awake after a nightmare. “They wouldn’t try a mutiny, would they?” She speaks in a hushed whisper. 

“Hell no. Too cowardly for that shit. Three of ‘em against the whole crew? They’d be tossed overboard in minutes. And that’d be the best case scenario for them.”

“But if they could sway some of the other crew - the ones who don’t know Vasco and I...”

“They might have had a minuscule chance before their asshole friend decided to take matters in his own hands and attempt to murder one of our sisters. Now? Even those who don’t know you well enough to trust you think they’re full of shit.” 

“Nobody’ll try to hurt Vasco will they?” 

“Be a right fucking idiot if they do. You were caught off-guard and it’s more difficult to defend yourself with your magic on a ship. Captain Vasco uses a sword and a pistol. Attacking him is a death sentence.” 

She’s taken to carrying a pistol everywhere she goes. At least until she’s gotten to know everyone. Never again will she be caught off guard like that. 

“He almost died. On his last voyage to New Sérène. Ship was attacked by a corrupted _nadaig_.”

“ _Nadaig_?”

“Guardian. One of the giant beasts. Wound on his back festered and the crows missed it. He was in a poor state when I made it to him. Had I been even two hours later...” she trails off. 

“Seems to have recovered from it well enough.” 

“As soon as I pulled the festering from his blood he improved dramatically. Was awake and completely alert by the morning. That was when we reunited. Been far too exciting these last few months. My last months on Tír Fradí were shit too,” she sighs. 

“Sounds as if you both are overdue for some luck,” Julien says wryly. 

“From your lips to the gods’ ears.” 

“Got each other. That’s damn lucky. Wish I had a partner as decent as the captain is.” 

“Not like me?” She teases. 

“You’re not my type, Allie,” he winks at her. 

“Oh I know. Caught you staring at Vasco a few times before it became common knowledge that I am his partner.” 

“Apologies. He’s a good looking man.” 

“Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to look. I’m sure he found it flattering.” 

“He knew?” Julien goes red. 

“Probably. Not something that we ever talked about but there is little that escapes his notice.” 

“When did you know you loved him?” 

Alys gives Julien a sad smile. “As soon as my cousin told me I did. Constantin died before Vasco and I were reunited. He’ll never know that I found my love once more.” 

“Shit. I’m sorry.” 

“It is what it is. World’s cruel at times. But sometimes there’s beautiful things as well. Like love.” 

“Aye, there is.” 

***

“Still like the work?” Alys asks Claire lightly as Claire removes her stitches. 

“I do. Would have preferred it if my first patient was not suffering from a stab wound.” 

“I’ll try to get injured in a more convenient manner next time.” 

Claire just shakes her head and Alys realizes she sounds like Vasco right now. “All finished. I assume you don’t need the ‘avoid all lifting and take it easy’ lecture?” 

“I do not, but I’d like to hear it anyway. It’ll be good practice for you.” 

Clearing her throat, Claire starts to speak. “While your stitches may have been removed, you’re still healing and doing any lifting can cause the wound to re-open. And you need to rest in order to recover properly. Don’t exert yourself. If you feel tired, lie down.” 

As she speaks, Claire looks nervous, unused to being someone giving orders as opposed to receiving them. Additionally she could hear hesitation in her voice, but she’s not been in training long and will develop more confidence in time. “You’ll need to be assertive with some patients you’ll encounter. The sense I’ve gotten is that Nauts can be stubborn. It’s a skill you’ll develop as we continue your training. Remember that what you did for me would be impressive for any physician and you did it two months in. That is an amazing achievement. Know that you are skilled and insist that patients heed your wisdom.” 

Claire looks down at the floor for a long moment. “That’s the nicest thing anyone aside from Myles has ever said to me.” 

Apparently Captain Tony was not one to offer praise for a job well done. Can’t say she’s surprised to learn this. “It’s true, not just kindness.” 

That night she shows Vasco the scar Pedro’s knife left. His breath hitches. “Does it pain you?” 

“A little. But thanks to my magic I’ll likely be back on my feet properly in another two weeks.” She tries to sound calm. Reassuring. 

He shifts on his feet, moving his arms as if unsure what to do with them. “You can hold me,” she tells him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Every touch this last week has been gentle, almost tentative. He needs more - they both do, but Vasco is clearly frightened. 

So she takes the first step, walking towards him, wrapping her arms around his middle. After a pause, his arms wrap around her neck and a hand rests on the back of her head. 

One of the things she’s realized since their reunion is how perfectly they fit together. Vasco’s not a tall man; he’s hardly taller than her in fact and they fit together effortlessly, like two puzzle pieces. She rests her chin on his shoulder, breathing in the blend of sea salt, gunpowder, cinnamon and pine that she now associates with home. 

“You’ll keep me safe,” she says into his shoulder. 

“Always.”


	10. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody tries to kill someone he loves and lives.

Fighting fair is for fools. Vasco’s never fought fair or honourably in a fight in his life. A fair fight is one in which he could easily end up dead, and he’s in the business of keeping himself and his people alive, thank you very much. 

So he does whatever he needs to in order to survive. Well-placed kicks to knock down or otherwise disable an enemy before shooting them in the head is a common tactic. Knee-capping is another. But his favourite is poison. 

A terribly dishonourable tactic, but a fantastic way to stay alive. As he got to know Alys, the contrasts between them became obvious. She uses plants and pieces of animals to save lives; he uses them to take lives. She’s gentle; he’s blunt. When they met she was rich and fancy; he was a sailor wearing simple clothes. Nothing will ever be fancy about him. 

Pedro tried to murder the woman he loves. She’s recovering in their quarters and she’s told him repeatedly that she’ll make a full recovery. But that’s not the point. Pedro tried to take her from him. 

Proper protocol for such crimes is to lock the criminal in the brig and drop ‘em off with the admiral for transfer to their island to stand trial. A good system. A fair system. 

But fuck the system. Pedro’s not making it to New Sérène, let alone their island. 

He waits until Alys falls asleep. She’s unlikely to approve of his actions; bitterly regretting her own act of vengeance. He’ll deal with her anger - gladly, because it means she’s still alive. That she wasn’t taken from him. 

An assassin he sailed with a decade ago who took a liking to the young cabin boy bringing him his meals gave him a thin blade. For poisoning targets discreetly he told him. Not for use in combat. He’s never had need to use it until today. 

Opening a bottle, he carefully coats the blade with a poison that will paralyze his target. He’ll suffocate. But first it’ll put Pedro to sleep. He’s getting revenge but he’s not going to torture someone. He hilts the blade, hiding it underneath his coat. 

“Dismissed, Marcos,” Vasco says to the man guarding the brig. An ambitious young man; Marcos is attentive and eager to please. 

“Captain?” Marcos looks confused. 

“I’ll keep watch for a bit. Get some sleep.” 

Marcos nods and leaves without asking any questions. 

Pedro is awake when he enters the brig and looks up at him. “Come here,” Vasco says firmly. 

To his credit, the man listens and approaches the bars. “Why did you do it?” He asks firmly. He needs to know why the man tried to kill his partner before bringing him to his end. 

“Because she’s a spy. Just doing my duty. You’re a traitor.” 

He won’t yell at the man. Won’t lose his temper. “She’s sea born. Chose to return to this life. To heal the sick and injured. And you tried to steal her life.” 

“Girl tricked you good.” 

He shakes his head. “No. You tried to kill an innocent woman.” 

“The admirals will decide,” Pedro says. 

In a smooth motion he pulls the blade from its hilt and stabs him. In the flank, the same place his partner was stabbed. Not too deep; just deep enough to ensure his death. He withdraws the blade and hilts it once more. “They will not,” he says, his voice quiet and dangerous. 

Pedro realizes what was done. “They’ll hang you for this. Murder is murder.” 

Vasco shakes his head. “It’s a shame. The prisoner had an undiagnosed lung condition. Suffocated overnight. Goodbye Pedro. Justice is served.” 

“You’re a traitor! You and your noble whore!” Pedro shouts. 

He doesn’t give him a response but instead walks out of the brig, locking the door behind him, his head held high. There’s no need to watch him die. 

The rest of the night he stands at attention outside the door. Logically, there’s no longer any need for a guard but he will play the part until Pedro’s death is discovered.

Marcos returns the next morning with a plate of food for Pedro. “Any trouble?” 

“Haven’t heard a thing.” He keeps his face neutral. 

Unlocking the door, Marcos enters. And then walks out, closing the door behind him and holding the plate. “Man’s dead.” 

“What happened?” He tries his best to look as casual as possible. 

“Seemed to have died in his sleep.” 

“A shame we weren’t able to get him to the island to stand trial for his crime.” 

“I suppose it is,” Marcos gives Vasco a look. He knows what was done. “Should examine the body, Captain. Determine a cause of death.” 

Marcos won’t reveal the true cause of death. He walks inside and makes a show of examining the body. “No injuries. Seems to have suffocated. Alys has told me there are health conditions that can cause that. Must have suffered from one of them.” 

Marcos hands him a shroud and together they wrap the body. “Best to get him dealt with.” They lift the corpse and, making their way to the railing, they toss it overboard without any fanfare. 

“I’ll note the cause of death in the log. You are free to resume your normal duties.” 

“Will do, Captain.” 

Marcos turns to leave but Vasco grabs his wrist. He turns and looks at him, confused. “Thank you,” he says quietly. 

“Didn’t do nothin’, Captain,” Marcos says pointedly. 

“For your help handling the dead. A morbid task,” Vasco clarifies, just in case anyone happens to be eavesdropping. 

Marcos understands. “Happy to be of assistance, Sir.” 

Alys is resting in their quarters. “Where were you all night?” 

He’d hoped she wouldn’t notice his absence. That she’d still be asleep when he made it in. “Standing guard. Thought I’d take a turn at it.” 

She eyes him suspiciously. “And how does he fare?” 

There’ll be no hiding it from her. “Died overnight. A lung condition that turned fatal.” 

“And I expect this condition was brought on by outside factors?” A very delicate way of implying poison was involved. The words of a woman raised at court. 

“Outside factors contributed.” 

She sighs. “Lie down?” He takes off his coat and boots before stripping his shirt and breeches off. Once he’s beside her she takes his hand. 

“I learned the hard way that vengeance is not the answer. I hope you do not have to learn the same lesson.” 

“Marcos is the only other who knows. It will be fine.” 

“Whole crew knows he tried to kill me. People’ll piece it together. Doubt he’ll be mourned but you’ll be relying on the discretion of many people.” 

This wasn’t the lecture he was expecting. He was expecting far more in the way of anger. Instead she sounds... resigned and unsurprised. 

“It will be some time before word spreads that he’s even dead.” 

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you on my account,” her hand stretches to rest on his torso. 

Murder is a crime, obviously, but if word gets out - and that’s a big if - he suspects Admiral Cabral will sweep it under the rug. Deny his involvement and confirm the official story: he died in his sleep of a previously undiagnosed health condition. Probably tear a strip off him in the process but he won’t be sent to the gallows for it. “Nothing will happen. I promise.” 

“Is there anything else about what happened that you need to tell me?” 

He shakes his head. “Do you have any questions?” 

“The less I know the better for both of us.” 

Alys is wise and he’s grateful for the patience she’s shown him. That she understands, even if she doesn’t approve. “Then let us never speak of it again.”


	11. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasco proves his loyalty to the Nauts.

Admiral Cabral is waiting for Vasco when they arrive in port. “I send you off a sailor and you return a captain once more. Received word that you’re a hero, Vasco.” 

“Just did my job, Admiral.” 

The admiral turns to her. “We have a new family member, I see.” 

“Thought it was time to return home. And figured Vasco could use a doctor working alongside him.” 

“I’d like to prove to you that I’m fully committed to the Nauts,” he says. 

“You’d like a loyalty mission, then?” 

Vasco nods and the admiral takes a moment to think. “A few years ago, we lost a ship off the coast. I sent a team to investigate but they never returned. I’d like to find out what happened to the ship and to the team I sent.” 

“We’ll head right out, Admiral.” 

“Oh and....” the admiral looks at her and pauses. 

“Alys,” she supplies. 

“A nice name. Suits you. Prince d’Orsay remains on the island. Leaves in another month, but has no doubts of your...demise. I would recommend caution, regardless. It would be preferable not to have to rescue one of our sisters from a prince.” 

“Thank you for the information, Admiral. We will be careful and remain away from the city.” 

Her and Vasco are off to investigate a sunken ship. She wears a hat and keeps her head down in New Sérène; careful to ensure she remains dead. 

“The admiral said she would rescue me if Adrien kidnapped me...” 

Vasco gives her a strange look. “Of course she would. You’re family and we take care of our own. Have no doubt she’d kill him herself if it came down to it. Though, more likely, I’d beat her to it.” 

“I’d rather not find out which of you ends up killing Adrien if it’s all the same to you.” 

“We’ll keep you hidden, Tempest. You sure you’re feeling up for the journey after your injury?” 

It’s been two months since she was stabbed by Pedro. Thanks to her magic, it was mostly healed in a month and since then she’s been working steadily to get herself back in shape. “I’m good. Feeling almost normal by now.” 

The hike takes them two days from the port in New Sérène. Without a tent they climb up a tree and wrap a blanket around themselves to keep warm as they get some sleep. Not the most comfortable night of sleep she’s ever had, but they manage.

After several years, the wreckage is not in good shape. The bodies of the poor sailors are nothing more than skeleton and sun-bleached clothing, the wood rotted by moisture. 

Vasco finds a journal. “This will tell us what happened.” 

She hears sounds in the cave that are hauntingly familiar to her, despite the fact that it’s been close to a year since she heard them last. “A _nadaig_ ,” she whispers. 

“A what?”

“The creature that attacked the Sea Horse and nearly killed you!” 

“I’ll get up close and keep it busy, you stay back and light it up!” 

“Watch for its lightning attacks!” She shouts as she sees it clearly. 

Fighting a _nadaig_ with fewer than three people is not ideal. But, despite having limited experience in combat together, her and Vasco work well as a team. He’s far quicker than any of her allies were; difficult to hit and immensely graceful. 

Were it not a fight for their lives she’d be tempted to stay back and just watch how he moves. But she doesn’t, obviously. Instead she fires bolts of lightning at the creature, mindful of her energy levels. If one of them takes a hit she needs to be able to heal or at least stabilize. 

With only two of them fighting she’s grateful the battlefield is relatively large. They’re able to easily dodge its attacks and avoid getting cornered. The _nadaig_ falls and Vasco walks towards her, breathing heavily. “Think I missed out on some fun while you hiked around the island,” he says brightly. 

“One of those guardians nearly killed you; fighting them is hardly fun,” she retorts. 

“We know what happened now. Same as what happened in Sérène. Ship was carrying it, drugs wore off and it freed itself, destroying the ship.”

“The crew never stood a chance.” 

Vasco just sighs in response. 

By the time they finish their investigation it’s getting dark so they set up camp in the cave and start a fire. 

“It’s strange being on land. Very pastoral,” Vasco says as they sit by the fire. 

“I take it you haven’t spent much time in the bush?” 

“Not until we reunited. Did some hiking on our island as a boy, before I became a cabin boy. Since then I’ve been at sea, save for a few weeks of shore leave here and there. Never took the opportunity to leave the city.” 

“Do you like it?”

“I like the company.” 

She smiles to herself. “Which means you hate it.”

He chuckles. “I like your village. And your aunt is a wonderful woman. Could see myself living there, perhaps.”

“I’d like to live in Vignamri one day. Maybe when we retire?”

“We can do that. Should stop in to see your aunt before we return to port.”

***

“You have decided to go to sea, _Magem_?” Her aunt says, as she cups her face. 

“Yes. It felt right. We will visit you whenever we’re here on leave.” 

She doesn’t want to tell the story of their voyage to Sérène. Or that she was attacked. Both stories would make _Modryb_ Slàn worry.

“I am glad you found the path that makes you happy. And you, Vasco, look happier. Have you found peace?” 

“I have. I know who I am now. Who my family is. I’m not the lost son of some noble family. The Nauts are my family. And you and Alys.” 

The clan knows to keep their secret - that she didn’t die when she jumped off the cliff that day. So they sit openly around a fire outside her aunt’s cabin. 

“Your friend - the tall man with the sword...”

“Kurt.”

“Yes, Kurt. He visited not too long after you left.”

She notices her aunt refuses to say that she died, even if all three of them know it was truly a ruse. 

Kurt visiting makes her nervous. She should have anticipated this. 

“What did he say?”

“Begged me to tell him you were alive. He said you were with a Naut, and that the Naut would never have let you drown. That he loves you too much to let anything happen to you.”

At least Kurt recognizes that Vasco’s love for her is genuine. “Did you tell him I live?”

“No,” her aunt says, pausing momentarily to take a sip of tea. “You asked me not to.” 

“Did he take it well?” 

She shakes her head. “Didn’t believe me. Said he’d find out the truth himself and left.” 

Kurt needs to know the truth. After years of teaching her and protecting her, she owes him that much. 

“He might be with Adrien. You can’t tell him until he’s left the island.” 

Vasco’s right and she knows it. But her heart aches at the thought of maintaining the lie. 

“He knows you’re alive. Just hasn’t found proof yet. Take comfort in that at least,” Vasco says, wrapping an arm around her. 

They leave a week later with potted plants for the infirmary, blankets and gloves. _Modryb_ Slàn knew life at sea was inevitable for them, even before either of them did and so she prepared. 

“Be careful, _Modryb_ Slàn; I fear war is inevitable between the Congregation and the Lions. Keep the village safe and as far away from any conflict as possible.” She says as she gives her a hug. 

“Our people will be careful to avoid the _renaigse_ conflict.”

‘Our people’. The acceptance warms her, as it always does. She’s not a Congregation subject any longer. Really, she never was. No, she’s who she was meant to be now. A Native of Tír Fradí and a Naut. 

***

“I feel more Naut than ever!” Vasco says proudly as they stand on the dock watching the sun set. 

The admiral, pleased to learn what happened to the ship, sent him to the tattooist and formally reinstated him as captain of the Sea Horse. 

“It will be good to be home,” he says. While the sea is their home, he prefers sailing on the Sea Horse. “I know her; how she moves, her quirks. Being at the helm of the Plover felt odd. As if I was manhandling a stranger.” 

Julien was named the new captain of the Plover on Vasco’s recommendation. Myles and Claire are transferring on account of Claire’s position as her apprentice. “There’s no one else we’d rather sail with than you two,” Myles told Vasco once the transfer was finalized. 

She takes Claire aside and they walk to a quiet area of the port. 

“It’s auspicious we have you, Claire,” she says. 

“Why is that?”

“There is to be a war. And wars are bloody things.” 

“You pay attention to land politics, then? I never have.” 

Claire doesn’t know who she was. The survivors of the kraken attack never asked about her past aside from what she offered up willingly; her noble accent and posture, her magical ability or any of the hundreds of other things that mark her as different from other Nauts. They just trusted her on the basis of her actions and her character. Myles and Julien were the only ones who heard bits and pieces of the story. 

“I was once intimately involved in politics. I was a legate.”

“Oh? How does one become a legate?”

“Be the niece of the Congregation prince. Not by blood, mind you. He stole me from my mum, who was from Tír Fradí and then from the Nauts. After my beloved cousin’s death I decided I had enough. Shortly afterwards Vasco and I found each other again.” 

“Shit. So you heard about the war through your position?”

“I started the war due to my position,” she says bitterly. 

Claire looks at her blankly. “A prominent Bridge Alliance doctor infected my cousin with the malichor. I killed the man and refused to keep his crime a secret. And so, thousands will die out of my desire for revenge.” 

“How’d you kill him?” 

“Beat him with my bare hands. Broke both of them doing it.” Her cheeks burn with shame as she says this and she looks down at the ground.

“If it were Myles I’d have done worse to him. Your partner did what needed to be done when placed in the same situation. The war isn’t your fault. It’s that doctor’s fault,” Claire says simply. 

It’s the same thing Vasco has told her when she brings it up. But it doesn’t ease the horrible shame she feels for her actions. And starting a war will never bring Constantin back. The people who deserve to pay for his crime: the politicians and unethical scientists who kidnap and poison innocents are the ones who should be paying. But they won’t. Instead it will be the commoners; the people who join the army to put food on their family’s table. 

Perhaps one day she’ll believe it when she’s told this war isn’t her fault. But as she watches ships full of soldiers reach the port, she knows today isn’t that day.

“Please don’t tell anyone about Pedro.” She’s still worried that word will get out about Vasco killing him. 

“My mouth’s shut. Everyone knew what he did, Allie, and nobody will say a word. Most admire him for it. A few found themselves fancying him a little. Someone who did what he did in defence of his partner? Rather attractive. Imagine they’ll miss him now that he’s back on the Sea Horse.” 

“Julien will be a fine captain.” 

Claire smirks. “Aye, he will, but his tastes are slightly more specific than Vasco’s. And he’s not quite as dashing as your partner is.” 

“What about Tim and Nora?” They were mistrusting of her and she’s well aware they could still be a threat. 

“Julien’s requested they be transferred elsewhere. For the sake of crew unity, apparently. Sounds as if they’ll be switched to a regional ship that sails around the island.” 

“And if they make noise about what happened?” 

Claire shrugs dismissively. “Who’ll they believe? The friends of an attempted murderer or a heroic captain and his doctor spouse? I’ve lived this life a long while and he’s safe. Believe me.”


	12. Tied Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alys and Vasco return to Tír Fradí.

War is an ugly thing. Naut ships are contracted out by both the Congregation and the Bridge Alliance to transport soldiers to and from the front lines. 

As a doctor she’s kept busy. Vasco is clear with the Congregation that soldiers will receive medical treatment so long as they’re on the sea but not afterwards and that, as neutral parties, soldiers from both sides will receive care as needed, provided they’re on board a ship. 

She looks at the broken and battered bodies of the soldiers she treats and can’t help but think their suffering is her fault. She thinks of Constantin frequently, wondering if he would be disappointed or proud of her. 

Many die. Mostly gunshot wounds that have had a chance to fester before she is able to treat them. Few die of blood loss or trauma; those soldiers would not have lived long enough to make it onto a ship. 

Becoming an expert in treating gunshot wounds is never something she wanted or expected. 

It’s not only gunshot wounds. It’s stab wounds, burns, poison, shrapnel - all of the possible injuries that come with combat, save for magic. Few in either nation are gifted with magic. And she learns how to handle them all. 

“How many bodies do you think we’ve tossed overboard?” She asks Vasco one night, a year and a half into the war. 

“Don’t do this to yourself, Tempest. None of this is your fault.” 

“I was a shit diplomat,” she says bitterly. 

“But an incredible doctor. That wasn’t your life. You’re where you belong now.” 

War has consequences beyond the obvious death and destruction of a generation of young people. Too busy to focus on healing the land, the malichor takes hold worse than ever in both nations. It’s bad enough that during shore leave she insists they remain at port as much as possible. 

“You do not wish to visit any of the shops or cafes you enjoyed when you lived here?” Vasco asks when they’re in Sérène. 

She shakes her head. “Can’t risk being recognized. I’m dead.”

That’s not the entire truth and Vasco knows it. 

“You’d be near impossible to recognize now.” It’s true. Her face is tattooed, she wears her hair down and her clothing is that of the Nauts and not the nobility. And even if she were recognized, nobody would believe that the niece of Prince d’Orsay became a Naut. 

And so she’s forced to confront a reality she learned when at Asili’s lab. “Love, I’m immune to the malichor as a Native but you are not.” 

Vasco looks baffled. “Nauts don’t get it. We don’t know why but we never have.” 

She shakes her head. “No, you can. You’re highly resistant is all. But Asili experimented on Nauts in his lab and there... were bodies of our people, dead of the malichor. Others were suffering from it.” 

The horrors of Asili’s lab aren’t something she’s ever talked about in detail. “I’m highly resistant, then. Going out in the city is likely fine.” 

As a doctor she knows enough to know they can’t take the risk. “No, even if you’re highly resistant, you can still catch it. And once you have it...there’s nothing that can be done. The cure is healing the land, and the war is preventing that from happening. Another of my many failures.” Her head is spinning and she rests it in her hands as she takes deep breaths in an attempt to stave off a panic attack. She can’t lose him to the malichor. Not after losing Mother and Constantin to it. Vasco rubs her back; large, firm circles. 

“We’ll have two weeks to catch up on our reading, then. There’s a shop right by the port. If you felt comfortable doing so, we could use a few things.” 

“I’ll go, Vasco. To keep you safe.” 

And so the next afternoon she heads to the shop, heavily disguised and picks up groceries before wandering to a nearby tea shop to pick up more of Vasco’s tea. He hadn’t asked, but she knows he’s getting low, and feels guilty about asking that they remain in port. 

“I’m sorry I’ve caused so much harm,” she whispers as he holds her that night. 

He kisses her forehead. “I’m lying in bed, holding the woman I love, who returned home to us after 25 years away. You may feel guilt for what is going on in the world, but it was not up to you to fix everything. What we’re seeing is the end result of generations of bad decisions from the leaders of these nations, and you were never one of them.” 

She opens her mouth to protest but Vasco stops her. “You were a diplomat. Only so much you could have done. You found the solution to the malichor and saved them from the doom your cousin was attempting to wrought. Can’t save people who are fixed on making decisions that hurt others.”

Maybe in time she will believe him and stop blaming herself. 

***

Because of the war it’s another two years before they return to New Sérène. Two years spent separated from her aunt and Kurt. Eventually a ceasefire is signed and the Nauts are no longer needed to transport the cargo of blood, death and destruction. And so the Sea Horse returns to crossing the sea with merchandise and passengers once more. 

When Vasco returns, he’s promoted to the rank of Commander and is put in charge of his own fleet. Delayed recognition for his heroism following the kraken attack, she suspects. 

She is so proud of her partner. He cannot keep the smile off his face as he tells her how he plans for there to be a doctor on every ship in his fleet eventually. In a year, Claire will transfer to another ship with Myles and she’ll find her next apprentice. 

New Sérène looks mostly untouched by the war. From the gossip she’s overheard, Hikmet was hit hard and Burhan was taken prisoner, but his replacement surrendered and subsequently the conflict remained on the continent. It’s a relief to hear this; the knowledge that her aunt and the rest of the islanders were safe from the wars between the old world lessens the burden she’s carried these last two years. 

She asks around discreetly about Burhan. Whether he was put to death for his complicity in the murder of the heir to the throne or if he’s locked away somewhere. Nobody knows. Briefly she hopes he’s dead and that he died badly, but the guilt of wishing such a horrible thing on someone overwhelms her. 

They have a month off so they are planning to head to Vignamri in the morning. But first, she has a long overdue meeting with a Coin Guard. And a letter to send to a Cardinal. She writes Petrus a letter, asking him to come to Vignamri. It’s not signed but Petrus will know who it is from. 

Vasco books them a room at the Coin Tavern and asks the bartender to send Kurt to their room. “He’ll think he’s sending Kurt up for a rather interesting night,” she jokes and Vasco chuckles nervously. 

Vasco doesn’t know Kurt. And she knows he doesn’t trust him. She fidgets with the hem of her shirt while they wait. The door opens and Kurt sees Vasco first. “You fucker!” She hears Kurt say angrily before he opens the door all the way. 

Kurt sees her and stops in his tracks as if he’s just seen a ghost. “Hello Kurt,” she says nervously. 

“I’d near given up hope. Finally believed the villagers’ story,” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. 

She stands up and wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her hair. “Their story was true. They just didn’t know all of it,” she says. 

Dampness on her scalp are the only indication she has that Kurt is crying. She holds him tightly, attempting to make up for the years he’s spent thinking she’s dead. Vasco sits on the bed, unsure of what to do. Finally Kurt steps back and looks at her, his eyes red and puffy. 

“Let’s have a look at you,” he stares at her; her face first and then his eyes trail down to her arms and hands, which are covered in tattoos representing her magical ability. “You’re covered in them, Green Blood!” 

“I’m a Naut. It’s what we do,” she says. 

Kurt sits on the bed and she sits between him and Vasco. Wordlessly Vasco pours a drink for Kurt and hands it to him, before pouring drinks for the two of them. 

“So what is the story then?” 

“I did jump off the cliff that day. But Vasco had taught me how to do it without killing myself. He dove in after me, pulled me up to the surface and swam me to shore. All part of the plan.” 

“So you did fake your death. I’d thought so for a long time but then you never showed up again...” 

She winces. “Sorry. We’ve been busy...with the war and when we were here last Adrien was around and we couldn’t take the risk.” 

“Could have written a letter and had someone deliver it after he left.” 

The fact that she had not thought to do that shames her. He mourned her for years unnecessarily. “Kurt, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think of that and I should have. I hated not telling you.” 

“Never mind. You’re here now. Guess you joined up after you had yourself killed off?”

“Not immediately. But we left for Sérène and I officially joined up during that voyage.” 

Not a story she’ll tell in more detail than that, of course. Too many Naut secrets to navigate and it’s still a painful thing to think about. 

“Your uncle bought your death. Wasn’t surprised in the least, especially given how you resigned. Believe he said ‘Makes sense. She would run off with a Naut in a fit of emotion only to throw herself off a cliff’.” 

Lovely. “Well, he’s not searching for us. That’s all that matters.” 

“Just don’t go around telling people your last name and you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t have a last name. That is no longer my name.” 

“Nauts who are sea given, or in my partner’s case, sea born who return to us after being stolen take new names,” Vasco says. 

“Do I get to know your new name?”

She smiles at him. “It’s not a new name but my original name. The name Mum gave me, according to Petrus. Alys.” 

“I like it. But you’re still Green Blood to me.”

“I’d have it no other way, Kurt.” 

Kurt comes with them to Vignamri. “I’m due for a few weeks off,” he tells them. She’s happy to have him along. 

As they camp for the night, Vasco pulls her away from the fire towards a nearby meadow. “Everything fine?”

“Perfect, Tempest.” He wraps an arm around her and kisses her forehead. They watch the stars for awhile before he speaks again. “We’ve never married.” 

“No, but that makes us no less committed to one another, right?” She gave up on the idea that she’d ever marry years ago. 

“Would you want to?” 

Her heart skips a beat. She’d never dared hope for this. “Are...you proposing?”

“Clumsily. If you’d like me to be, that is.” 

She smiles and her eyes well up with tears of joy. “I’d like you to be proposing.” 

“Then let me try this again,” he takes both of her hands in his. “Alys, will you marry me?” He says softly. 

“Yes, Vasco. I would love nothing more.” He lifts her up and she wraps her legs around his waist as he kisses her until they’re both breathless, lips swollen and cheeks flushed.

***

Petrus has already arrived by the time the three of them make it to the village. He breaks into a grin, rushing over to give her a hug. “Clever girl, faking your death,” he says. “Who is this, then?” He looks at Vasco. 

He knows who Vasco is, obviously. She had told Petrus of him in a fit of despair. “This is my fiancé, Commander Vasco. Vasco, meet Cardinal Petrus.” Vasco offers his hand and Petrus shakes it. 

“Good to meet you. Elizabet told me of you.” 

“It’s Alys now.” 

Petrus looks taken aback, and she sees as memories of Mum wash over him and he blinks rapidly. “How very... perfect. A fine name, Alys,” he says, finally. 

_Modryb_ Slàn marries them two days later, with Kurt and Petrus as the only witnesses. She wears the same coat Mum wore when she had her bonding ceremony with Dad. A wedding isn’t something she ever dreamed about as an adult so she had no expectations of what it would be like, but she cannot imagine anything more fitting than to marry Vasco in the sacred place near her village as the sun sits low in the sky. 

“My wife,” he says reverently as the early morning sun shines through the window after a night of gentle and passionate lovemaking. They’ve yet to get to sleep. 

“My husband,” she says with wonder. It hasn’t quite sunk in that she has a husband. 

He kisses her tenderly and rests his forehead against her. “I expect the entire village knows our marriage has been consummated.” 

“No less than three times.” 

“I’m married to the most beautiful person there is. Could hardly expect me to keep my hands to myself, could you?”

“I would never expect such a thing.” 

He takes one of her hands and places it over his heart. “Saved this spot for you. However you’d like our story told. A story that’s years overdue to be shared.” 

“What about my fingerprints? So I’m always touching your heart.” 

He smiles at her. “I love it.” 

“Could I get yours over my heart too?”

“Of course you can.” 

They fall asleep shortly thereafter in one another’s arms as she thinks about how her life has turned out. It’s not the life she imagined growing up in a palace wearing expensive gowns and attending balls, but it’s so much better. Her heart is so full it aches at the thought of spending the rest of her life beside the man sleeping in her arms. 

Elizabet De Sardet died the day she jumped into the sea so Alys could rise to the surface and live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’ve come to the end of my self-indulgent thought experiment - thanks for reading!


End file.
